Still, the letter lingered in a corner of her mind as a curiosity, not a warning. Life felt too full of hope to make room for suspicion. Sandra folded laundry, arranged baby clothes, and let the odd correspondence fade into the background noise of adulthood.
Then there was the credit card offer that arrived with incorrect personal details—wrong employment and address, but Jake’s name was printed boldly across the top. He barely glanced at it before tearing it in half, muttering that companies fished from databases. She accepted the explanation as easily as he offered it.