Marcus spoke next, his voice raised just enough to cut through the hum of the refrigerator.

Juliette’s hand went to her collarbone, her fingers digging into her skin.

“Annie, please,” she whispered, her eyes darting toward the hallway door.

“The transfer you just did only covers the unpaid catering and the broken porch railing,” I said.

I reached onto the counter and pulled a blue folder from beneath the stack of unpaid utility bills.

I laid the folder flat on the marble island and opened it.

Inside was the three-page agreement I had drafted with our lawyer on Thursday morning.

“What is that?” Sarah asked, leaning forward from the corner of the room.

“It is the deed release for the cabin, and a formal repayment schedule for the loans Dan gave you last year,” I said.

Juliette stared at the paper as if it were a snake.

“I don’t have to sign anything under duress,” she said, her voice trembling.

“You don’t have to sign it at all,” I replied.

“But if you don’t, I will walk out to that driveway and tell Deputy Miller exactly who authorized the illegal grading on Marcus’s property line.”