“He took what he could sell quickly,” she said, pulling a kitchen chair out and sitting down.
I opened the top drawer of the desk and pulled out the blue paper folder containing my copy of the lease. The yellow three-hundred-dollar eviction notice was still tucked into the metal clip at the top, its edges curled from the humidity of the room.
“This is everything,” I said, placing the folder on the table between us. “The landlord said if I don’t have the cash by five on Friday, the locks are being changed.”
Desiree took the folder, her fingers smoothing out the yellow paper before she opened the lease agreement. She read the names on the signature line slowly, her fingernail tracing the crooked letters of Julian’s signature.
“He signed this three months before he left,” she said.
“He said it was a renewal for both of us,” I said.
Desiree did not answer immediately. She folded the lease agreement carefully, sliding it into her leather handbag and pulling the brass clasp shut with a sharp click.
