Linda wore a heavy wool coat with a real fur collar, her face set in a hard, expectant mask.

Ryan looked terrible.

His eyes were sunken, his skin a pasty yellow, and his hands were shoved deep into the pockets of a stained jacket.

“Sophia,” Ethan said, his voice tight.

He did not wait for me to invite him in.

He brushed past my shoulder, followed closely by Linda, whose perfume smelled sickly sweet in the narrow hallway.

“It is freezing out there,” Linda said, shaking her umbrella onto the hardwood floor.

“Let’s get this over with.”

“In the dining room,” I said, keeping my voice even.

We walked into the dining room.

The house felt larger and emptier than it ever had before.

Linda took a seat at the head of the table, pulling off her leather gloves one finger at a time.

Ethan sat opposite her, his eyes locked onto the blue folder.

Ryan remained standing near the sideboard, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“You have the check?” Ethan asked, leaning forward.

“I have the paperwork,” I said.