I pulled my wool coat tighter around my shoulders.

I drove back to the house in silence, the windshield wipers ticking a steady rhythm.

The house was dark when I arrived.

Ethan’s things were still scattered in the hallway—a pair of muddy boots, a discarded jacket.

He hadn’t even bothered to pack properly before running off to his mother’s.

I walked into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water.

The silence of the empty house was heavy, filled with the ghosts of the marriage I thought I had.

I sat at the wooden dining table, the same table where Ethan and I had once planned our future.

I kept my phone on the table in front of me, the screen dark.

At eight o’clock, the phone lit up again.

It wasn’t a text from Ethan.

It was an incoming call from an encrypted number.

I picked it up on the second ring.

“Sophia?” a female voice asked.

“Yes,” I said. “This is Sophia.”

“This is Special Agent Vance,” the woman said. “We have received the files from your attorney.”