The SUV sped away down Redwood Crest Drive, disappearing around the bend toward the highway.

On the screen, Craig waved his crew forward.

Two workers immediately pulled out heavy-duty drills and began removing the hardware from the front door.

“It’s done,” Molly whispered, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“The first part is,” I said.

I closed the laptop and rubbed my temples.

My sister’s house was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the soft breathing of Ivy asleep in her portable crib in the living room.

My phone rang again. It was Jennifer.

“I watched the recording confirmation hit the county database,” Jennifer said. “How are you holding up?”

“They’re gone,” I said. “They left for the airport.”

“Good,” Jennifer said. “Now we move to step two. I’ve already drafted the temporary custody filing and the divorce petition.”

“Will he be served in Miami?” I asked.

“No,” Jennifer said. “We want him to enjoy his vacation. We’ll have him served the moment his flight lands back in Colorado next Tuesday.”

“Can he try to halt the home sale retrospectively?” I asked.