I looked at the paper in her hand, then up at her face.

She genuinely believed she still had cards to play.

“You are offering me Darrow House,” I said.

“It is a fair trade, Nora,” she said. “It protects your dignity, and it saves the family from further embarrassment.”

Lena stepped forward, but I held up a hand to stop her.

“Have you spoken to your bank today, Margaret?” I asked.

Margaret’s brow furrowed. “What does that have to do with this?”

“Or perhaps your corporate treasurer?” I added.

“Nora, let’s not play games,” she said, her voice losing its warm edge. “This is a generous offer.”

I pulled out my phone and tapped the screen to open the PDF I had received minutes earlier.

I turned the screen toward her.

Margaret squinted at the bright display, her eyes scanning the legal text.

The words *Notice of Foreclosure* were clear even in the dim light of the foyer.

Her hand holding the folded paper began to tremble slightly.

“This is a mistake,” Margaret whispered, her voice cracking. “The grace period on the Whitaker loan does not expire until next month.”