Walter opened the folder slowly and laid out the first page. “This is the Clear Harbor invoice for a respite visit on a Thursday in March,” he said calmly. “My daughter Paige was the only person in this house that day. She wrote it down, and so did I.” Natalie’s smile cracked. Trevor reached for the page, but Walter placed his hand flat over it. Margaret, my mother, simply watched her husband with calm eyes.

Then Walter slid a second page across the table, a corporate filing stamped by the state of Georgia. “Managing member,” he read aloud. “Natalie Pierce.” The room went silent. Trevor’s face drained of color. Natalie whispered, “Daddy, I can explain.” Walter did not look at her. He looked at the front door, where headlights were sweeping across the curtains and someone began knocking.