too late.
Brittany shrugged. “Bank stuff. School forms. Whatever. This is our address now.”
Evan looked at me. He knew why that mattered.
False residency could turn simple trespassing into a nightmare if they created the appearance that they lived there. My mother hadn’t acted impulsively. She had prepared.
I kept my voice flat. “Show me.”
“Why?” Mom asked.
“Because if you’re claiming residency, I want to see what you used.”
For a second, greed beat caution.
She pulled a folder from her purse. Inside were utility statements, change-of-address confirmations,
