Behind him stood two police officers.

But they weren’t there to arrest him.

They looked uncomfortable.

“Mrs. Brooks,” Pendelton said, his voice booming.

“I am here to inform you that my client has been released.”

“The judge signed the bail order ten minutes ago.”

“And we have filed an emergency petition for access to the marital estate.”

My phone on the mattress suddenly vibrated.

A text message from Rachel flashed on the screen.

I looked down.

The message read: *The vault is locked. They are doing a system reboot. I can’t get into the box.*

I looked up at Pendelton.

He smiled, taking a step toward my bed.

I did not flinch.

The white paper of the envelope crinkled as he laid it on my bedside table, right next to the plastic cup of lukewarm water.

The two police officers shifted their weight, their leather duty belts squeaking in the quiet room.

“You look pale, Natalie,” Pendelton said, his eyes scanning my bandaged face.

“The morphine is wearing off,” I said, my voice dry and scratchy. “But my mind is perfectly clear.”