That was Richard Sterling, Scott’s high-priced attorney.

Scott saw me and smirked.

He walked over, his leather shoes clicking loudly on the linoleum.

“Avery,” Scott said, his voice dripping with false sympathy. “I didn’t think you’d actually show up to make a fool of yourself.”

“I’m here for what’s mine, Scott,” I said.

Sterling stepped forward, offering a cold smile.

“Mrs. Collins,” Sterling said. “I am Richard Sterling. I suggest we resolve this quietly. Your signature on the separation agreement is binding.”

“We’ll let the judge decide that,” Jerome said, stepping between us.

“Mr. Carter,” Sterling said, his tone patronizing. “You are wasting your client’s time and whatever money she has left. The pre-marital home is solely in my client’s name. The inheritance is protected.”

Kayla crossed her arms, looking at me with a triumphant grin.

“He doesn’t owe you anything, Avery,” Kayla said. “You’re yesterday’s news.”

“Be quiet, Kayla,” Scott muttered, though he didn’t look angry.

“Let’s go inside,” Victoria Vance said, appearing from the end of the hallway.

She was a tall, imposing woman in her sixties, with gray hair pulled into a tight bun.