They were fast asleep in their twin beds, the soft nightlight casting shadows of cartoon animals on the wall.

I smoothed the blankets over Ruby’s shoulders and kissed her forehead.

Everything I did, every property I acquired, was to ensure they would never be at the mercy of the Ralston family.

I went down to my study, locked the door, and opened my laptop.

An email from my attorney, Sarah, was waiting in my inbox.

The draft of the divorce petition was attached, along with the asset division schedule.

I scrolled through the list of properties under my control.

The Highland Park mansion we lived in was listed under Bluebird Trust LLC.

Graham believed the house was a gift from his mother, rented through a family trust.

In reality, I had bought the deed from the bank during the foreclosure proceedings two years ago.

I closed the laptop when I heard the front door open downstairs.

It was nearly midnight.

Graham’s footsteps were heavy and uneven as he climbed the stairs.

He didn’t come to our bedroom; he went straight into the guest room down the hall.