I closed my eyes for a brief second, feeling the warmth of the kitchen radiator against my back.

“Thank you, Elliot,” I said.

“The buyer’s project manager is actually in his truck outside the property right now,” Elliot said. “He was waiting for the green light.”

“Tell him he has it,” I said. “The keys are in the lockbox by the side gate.”

“He knows,” Elliot said. “And Tessa? He brought the crew.”

I hung up and switched the security feed back to the front driveway.

A massive white pickup truck with a commercial logo on the side pulled up to the curb.

Two more trucks followed it, parking directly behind Diane’s silver SUV.

Four men in high-vis vests and hard hats got out of the trucks.

They walked toward the front door, carrying clipboards and heavy-duty toolboxes.

I watched the screen, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The lead contractor stepped up to the porch and rang the doorbell.

On the living room camera, Brent paused, his champagne glass halfway to his mouth.

He looked toward the front door, his brow furrowing in confusion.