The word study was written across the paper in David’s neat, microscopic handwriting.
The locksmith must have left the duplicate here, or David had forgotten to hide it.
I held the key between my thumb and forefinger, my mind racing back to the black business card. He had told me the lawyer was for a patient, but his study was locked tight against me.
Slipping the cold brass key into the deep pocket of my trousers, knowing it did not belong there.
The marble floor of the Oak Creek National Bank was cold even through my thick-soled shoes at ten o’clock the next morning.
The lobby was nearly empty except for an elderly man filling out a deposit slip at the central standing desk.
His boots clicked on the tile, a slow, hollow sound that echoed up toward the high plaster ceiling.
Sarah, a young woman whose mother had been in my junior English class twenty years ago, smiled from behind the high teller counter.
“Just the deposit today, Rachel?” she asked, her voice carrying the polite, practiced lilt of a small-town bank employee.
“Actually, Sarah, I need the printed statements for our joint checking account,” I said, speaking slowly and keeping my hands steady. “For the last three months, please.”
She tapped her fingers on the edge of her keyboard, her computer screen reflecting in her safety glasses as she scrolled through the records.
“We can print those right out for you,” she said, looking up with a slight frown. “There is a ten-dollar fee for paper archives, though. I can take it right from the account if you like.”
“That is fine,” I said, sliding my debit card across the smooth black counter.
“It will just take a moment,” she said, her fingers moving over the keys again. “We had some trouble with the network this morning, but it seems to be running now.”
The printer behind her began its rhythmic, high-pitched whining, pulling paper from a tray in the back of the small office.
I touched my silver wedding ring, spinning it slowly around my knuckle while I waited for the machine to finish.
The joint account had held our shared life for twenty-two years, the deposits from my teaching salary and his medical practice mingling until they were indistinguishable.
