“I have a summons for you,” she said, handing me the envelope.

“It’s a third-party claim filed against the property.”

I took the envelope, my fingers cold against the paper.

“Who filed this?” I asked.

She looked at me with a neutral expression.

“A creditor representing your husband’s primary lender,” she said. “They are contesting the asset division.”

Before I could respond, my phone began to ring inside my purse.

I pulled it out and saw Jerome’s name flashing on the screen.

I swiped to answer.

“Avery, don’t sign anything yet,” Jerome’s voice was tense, faster than usual.

“We have a problem with the storage unit.”

“What do you mean, a problem with the storage unit?” I asked, turning away from the process server.

She was already walking back to her sedan, her high heels clicking quickly on the damp pavement.

“Scott tried to empty it last night,” Jerome said.

“The facility manager called me because your name is still on the lease.”

“Did he take the financial records?” I asked.

My hand shook slightly against the cold plastic of the phone.