“Who is calling you from the county sheriff’s office, Ethan?” I asked.

Linda walked back into the hallway, her high heels clicking sharply on the hardwood floor.

“Don’t let her interrogate you, Ethan,” Linda said, her voice rising. “Get the papers from the car. We are changing the locks tomorrow anyway.”

Ethan hesitated, his hand still hovering in the air between us.

“Actually,” Linda said, her eyes narrowing as she looked at me. “Why wait? Ethan, take her keys. She can sleep at a hotel tonight until she learns to cooperate.”

Ethan took a step toward me.

His face was pale, but his jaw was set.

“Just give me the keys, Sophia,” Ethan said. “My mother is right. We need some space to sort this out without your attitude.”

“This is my house,” I said, my voice steady despite the rapid beating of my heart.

“It was your mother’s house,” Linda corrected, stepping closer until I could smell her heavy perfume. “Now it is marital property. Ethan has a right to it, and as his family, so do I.”

Ethan reached out and grabbed my wrist.