My mother reached out, her fingers touching the edge of the paper as if it might burn her.

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, looking down at the rows of numbers and dates.

“He told us he was trying to help you. He said he was covering for your mistakes.”

“Look at the date on this one,” I said, pointing to a line near the top of the page.

“October twelfth, three years ago.”

“That was the week before you canceled your visit to my base in Germany.”

My mother looked at the paper, her eyes scanning the text.

“You told me you were too busy with court-martial hearings to see us,” she said.

“No, Mother,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could.

“Andrew sent you a forged letter on official letterhead saying I had requested that you not come.”

“He told you I found your presence distracting.”

Claire stepped forward, her voice rising in panic.

“Don’t listen to her, Mom! She’s making this up to turn you against us!”

“Look at the routing number at the bottom, Claire,” I said, not backing down.