I Was Uninvited From Christmas by the Man Living in My House

is this?”

“Your loan file.”

He blinked at me.

“No.”

“Yes.”

He looked up, then back down, then up again like maybe the words would rearrange themselves into something less awful.

“This is from Phoenix Capital.”

“I know.”

“Why do you have this?”

Because I own the note, I thought.

Because every check you’ve written for twenty-four months has crossed a desk that continue reading …