“What do you mean?” I asked, turning the windshield wipers to a faster speed.

“I’ve prepared the paperwork to freeze his major assets,” Naomi said. “The trust accounts, the joint investment portfolios, the offshore holdings we uncovered last month.”

“Can you do that before the divorce is finalized?”

“With the evidence of financial dissipation we have? Yes,” Naomi said. “The judge will sign the temporary restraining order on the assets by nine o’clock tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Naomi,” I said.

“Get some rest, Amelia,” she said. “The real battle begins tomorrow.”

We ended the call.

I looked in the rearview mirror.

Lily had fallen asleep, her head leaning against the side of her booster seat, her rabbit tucked under her arm.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

An hour later, I pulled into the parking lot of the motel.

The neon sign buzzed in the rain, casting a green light over the wet asphalt.

I carried Lily inside, her small body heavy with sleep.

The room was small and smelled of old smoke, but the lock on the door was solid.