Quinn stared at her, not knowing what to say. In a way, the woman was right. When she’d ever thought about Hawaii before, she’d only seen visions of beaches and palm trees. Mimosas and poolside umbrellas. She’d never considered the local families there struggling just to keep a roof over their heads.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and meant it. “But the fact is I bought this house. There’s obviously been some kind of misunderstanding. I don’t mean to seem as though I don’t care, though.”

Maria nodded. “Thank you. And I’ll admit—I’d be really upset if I were in your shoes too. Let me get the papers.” She stood and went to a kitchen drawer, pulled out a sheaf of papers, and returned.

She set them in front of Quinn and pointed at one that had the word notice in big block letters across the top.

“This is what I found posted on our door yesterday,” she said. “I haven’t even had time to contact an attorney yet. I had no idea the bank was taking this house until a day ago, I swear to you.”

She stared hard at Quinn.

“How could you not know?” Quinn said. “If the bank was involved, that must mean you weren’t paying for it. They obviously sold it to a broker who put it out there publicly, where I found it.”

“But we didn’t owe anything on this house,” Maria said. “It’s been in my husband’s family for more than sixty years, and when his parents died, it went to him. We’ve lived in it for more than twenty years. I called this morning and talked to my friend who works in the loan department. She looked it up and told me that Jaime put it up for collateral for a loan late last year. He didn’t need my signature because this house was in his name long before we married, and we never added mine. She said the mailing address on file was a mailbox downtown. That’s why I hadn’t received any of the notices until they came and put these on the door.”

“And where is your husband? Has he—um, passed too?” Quinn asked.

“No, as far as I know, he’s very much alive. You didn’t see him when you signed the papers?” Maria asked.

“It was a mail-away closing. They sent them to me, I signed, then sent them back. The Realtor said he does it that way all the time. You don’t know where your husband is?”

Maria shrugged. “He left more than three months ago. No one knows where he is.” Then she burst into tears, her shoulders shaking as she rested her face in her hands.

Public displays of emotion made Quinn feel helpless. She had no idea what to say, or do, to make it less awkward.