Before I could answer Trina, my phone buzzed with another call. It was my bank. I put Trina on hold and switched lines. “Mrs. Whitman,” the fraud manager said carefully, “this morning someone tried to withdraw seventy-two thousand dollars from your old savings account using a signed authorization form. Since that account was closed last week, the request was flagged. Did you sign this?”

“No,” I said. My chest tightened. “Who brought it in?” There was a short pause. “A woman named Trina Whitman. She said she had your permission, and the form appears to carry your signature.” I switched back to the other line. Trina was still talking about deposits and deadlines. “Trina,” I said quietly, “the bank just called me. Tell Bradley what you did this morning, or I will.”