The court hearing was set for September twenty-seventh.
We had two weeks to prove the bank had mishandled the payment. The lawyer had requested an audit and obtained permission to review the estate's own records, but the bank still had not produced its originals.
I went to the bank every day. I brought my ledger copies, my lawyer's letters, and the same quiet question: where had the payment gone?
On the fourth day, I found Pike in the hallway. His hands were shaking.
"I can't help you," he said.
"I haven't asked you to."
"You've been asking to see the records."
"That's not the same thing."
He looked toward the teller's counter. "Mr. Voss has people at the bank."
"Do you have proof?"
"I don't know."
"Then you don't know."
Pike looked relieved and frightened at once. "Your father
