I felt a cold knot of satisfaction tighten in my stomach.

“But Tessa, there is something else,” Jennifer said, her tone suddenly shifting.

“What is it?” I asked.

I stood up from the barstool, walking over to the window that looked out onto Molly’s quiet, tree-lined street.

The Colorado sky was a deep, sharp blue, the autumn air beginning to turn the leaves yellow.

“I ran the preliminary title search to prepare the deed transfer,” Jennifer said.

“And?”

“There was an active inquiry on the title from yesterday morning,” Jennifer said. “A very large one.”

I frowned, leaning against the cold glass of the window.

“An inquiry? From whom?”

“A private lending firm based out of Denver,” Jennifer said. “They requested a title report and a payoff statement.”

“I don’t have a mortgage on that house,” I said. “I paid cash when I built it.”

“I know,” Jennifer said. “But someone attempted to open a five-hundred-thousand-dollar cash-out refinance against the property.”

My hand tightened around the phone.

“Brent,” I whispered.

“It had to be,” Jennifer said. “The application was submitted online. They were fast-tracking it.”