“Are you out of your mind? You want my mother to p…

Patricia did not know what I meant. The cashier certainly did not know what I meant. But I did.

I had known for three days, ever since I found the folder. The folder had not been hidden exactly. That was the thing that kept coming back to me as I stood at that checkout counter watching Daniel’s face go red.

It had not been locked away, had not been buried under a pile of papers or tucked inside a book or stored somewhere I would never think to look. It had been sitting in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet in our home office, the same filing cabinet where I kept my tax returns, my insurance documents, the deed to the house, and our appliance warranties. It was the same drawer I had opened three days earlier to find the receipt for the water heater service because I needed the model number for a follow-up call.