“We are ready to roll as soon as the judge signs off,” Henderson said.

My father stood up.

“Thank you, John,” he said.

“You did the right thing, Daniel,” John said. “Playing the handyman allowed you to get the proof without them covering their tracks.”

We walked out of the office and back into the hallway.

The air felt lighter, but the tension in my chest remained.

“What do we do now?” I asked my father as we waited for the elevator.

“We wait,” he said. “The law will handle the rest.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out and looked at the screen.

His face hardened.

He turned the screen toward me.

It was a text message from an unknown number, but I recognized the tone instantly.

*You think you won, Daniel. Look outside your apartment.*

The elevator doors slid open.

My father’s hand tightened around the phone.

We stepped inside, and the doors closed, sealing us in the quiet steel box.

My father pressed the button for the lobby.

“We need to go to the apartment, Sophie,” he said.