“To meet with someone at his office. We need to sign some papers. I’ll explain on the way.” He scanned me critically. “But don’t bring anything. Leave your purse and your phone. This is a confidential discussion.”

His tone allowed for no arguments. Over fifteen years of marriage, he had systematically chipped away at my will, convincing me that I understood nothing about serious business. I nodded silently, grabbed a light jacket, and followed him to the car. We drove in silence, the city falling behind, replaced by dreary suburban strip malls.