I slid Caleb’s plastic card into the reader.

A red light flashed, followed by a harsh double beep.

The lock did not release.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

I turned to see the security guard walking toward me along the inside of the fence.

“I live here,” I said, my voice steady despite the shaking in my hands. “I am Vivian Whitmore.”

The guard looked at a clipboard in his hand.

“I have orders from Mr. Whitmore,” the guard said. “You are not permitted on the property.”

“This is my home,” I said. “My name is on the gate.”

“The property manager revoked your access code three hours ago,” he said.

He did not look me in the eye.

“If you don’t leave, I will have to call the police for trespassing.”

I looked past him at the warm lights glowing inside the house.

Through the glass of the second-story balcony, I saw a shadow move.

It was Lila.

She was holding a glass of white wine, looking down at the gate.

She didn’t wave. She just watched.

I turned my back on the house and walked back to Diane’s car.