Beneath the header was the legal address of Darrow House.

The date of execution was listed as yesterday afternoon.

I stared at the document on my screen, a quiet feeling of triumph washing over me.

Margaret did not know yet.

She was still preparing a deal using an estate she no longer owned.

“What is it?” Lena asked.

Before I could answer, the sound of a car engine echoed from the gravel driveway downstairs.

I walked to the window and looked down through the rain.

A black sedan had stopped at the front steps.

The door opened, and a woman in a long wool coat stepped out into the storm.

Even through the darkness, I recognized the posture.

It was Margaret.

She looked up at the gallery windows, her face pale and set.

She began to walk toward the front door of Darrow House.

My phone began to ring again.

This time, the screen showed Margaret’s name.

I let the phone ring.

The screen lit up my face in the dim hallway, Margaret’s name flashing against the black background.