By the time my husband graduated from medical school I had spent eight years paying for it. On the lawn afterward his mother took the flowers out of my hands, he pushed an envelope into them, and I opened it standing in front of eighty people.

She said, “Have you seen the complaint?”

I said no. I said Idris had told me about it.

She said, “Then we don’t know what’s in it. We know what your husband told a classmate it said.”

It took her three weeks and two records requests.

The original complaint was not filed by anybody in Teo’s family and it was not filed by a person with a grudge.

It came out of a routine eligibility audit at the urgent care network. My employer. In February, their compliance office ran a match — the kind of automated cross-check that large healthcare employers do — and it flagged a household in which an employee’s declared income sat alongside a spouse receiving substantial need-based educational support.

The employee was me.

The name on the front of that file was mine.

It was referred out in March, and it reached Keswick in April, and the compliance office at the medical school opened it as an aid-integrity question about their student, which is how Teo came to hear about it at all.