**Chapter 7: The Beginning of the End**
“Did you pay my phone bill?” I lift my legs and a broom slides beneath them. I look up at June, and she’s pondering. Her face is wrinkled in concentration, and she pulls her lips to one side. God, I love when she does that.
“I thought so,” says June. She shrugs and keeps sweeping. “I hate that the stupid auto-pay isn’t through yet.”
“Did you use one of the new cards?”
“Yeah.”
“Not one of the old cards?”
“No. Didn’t you cut them up?”
“Yeah, but I thought maybe you wrote them down or memorized them.”.
“I have them memorized. Do you need them?” June did have a freakishly good memory. I guess it comes from being a waitress, but strings of numbers, dates, or events never slip her mind. She’s handy that way
“That’s unsettling,” I say.
She winks at me. “I have the new ones memorized, too.”
“The identity thief, June Gladwell.”