I called her in the morning.
Not that night, because that night required sitting with it, turning the information over in the way I had learned to turn things, examining from all angles before deciding which angle mattered most. The angle that mattered most was not how Diana came to be in the document. It was why she had chosen this moment to send it.
She answered on the first ring, which told me she had been waiting.
“I found the document in my own files last month,” she said, before I could say anything. “Going through old records. I had forgotten it existed, which sounds like an excuse and is not. I was twenty-eight in 1997 and the transaction seemed peripheral at the time and I filed it and the decade went on and by the time those documents became relevant to your life I had genuine
