“They are doing their job,” I said.

“They’re taking mom’s antique dressers,” Karen cried. “Where are we supposed to go?”

Behind me, the door to the conference room opened.

Brent and his lawyer walked out into the hallway.

Brent stopped when he saw me holding the phone.

I looked directly into my husband’s eyes.

“Ask Brent,” I said into the phone. “He has plenty of time to help you now.”

Before Karen could answer, a loud alarm began to chime from the building’s emergency system.

The lights in the hallway flickered once and then went completely dark, leaving only the red emergency exit signs glowing in the shadows.

The alarm was deafening, a high-pitched shriek that echoed off the concrete walls.

The red emergency lights cast long, distorted shadows across the carpeted hallway.

Brent took a step toward me, his face pale in the crimson glow.

“What did you just say to Karen?” he demanded, his voice straining over the siren.

“I told her the truth,” I said.

Jennifer grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the heavy fire door at the end of the hall.