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"I did not."

"You absolutely did."

"I was reacting to your organizational obsession."

"My organizational obsession solves problems."

"It color-codes them."

"It solves them in color."

Despite everything, I laugh. A real one. She looks almost surprised she managed it. Then she quickly looks back down at the paperwork. The moment passes.

Sayer sits cross-legged on the living room rug with a spiral notebook. Unlike the electronics surrounding us, paper still seems trustworthy.

"So," I say, pulling out a chair, "show me what we've got."

Carys slides several documents across the table.

"I searched property records connected to Timothy and Rebecca Valentine."

"The adoptive parents."

She nods.

"They bought the house eleven years ago."

"Anything before that?"

"Nothing."

I look closer.

"Nothing?"

"Right."

She taps the page.

"The county database jumps from one owner to them."

"No previous sale?"

"No estate transfer."

"No construction permits."

"No tax assessments."

I frown.

"Impossible."

"That's becoming a theme."

She hands me another folder.

"I drove to the county archive website."