The envelope showed my full name.
Our home address.
And beneath it, the name of a financial company I didn’t recognize.
I stared at it.
There was no reason for a debt company to be sending me mail at Rachel’s apartment.
Unless someone had used my information.
I called the bank again.
This time I asked to speak to the fraud department.
I explained everything.
The representative asked me several questions.
Had I applied for a new credit card?
No.
Had I applied for a personal loan?
No.
Had I authorized Nathan to apply for credit on my behalf?
No.
Had I given anyone permission to use my employment information?
No.
Then came the question I was afraid of.
“Do you have any joint financial accounts with this person?”
“Yes.”
“Are you married?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause.
“Then we need to review whether the application was for an individual account or a joint obligation.”
