“I should go,” he said. “I don’t want to wake the twins.”

He slipped his coat on, his movements slow and heavy.

“What are you going to do about Rebecca?” I asked.

“Benjamin is filing the petition first thing in the morning,” Jonathan said. “Once it is public, there is no turning back.”

He walked to the door and put his hand on the brass knob.

“She will try to contact you,” he said, turning his head slightly. “Do not answer.”

“I won’t,” I said.

“Goodnight, Mariana,” he said.

He opened the door and stepped out onto the landing.

I watched him go, his footsteps fading down the wooden stairs.

I locked the door behind him and turned the heavy deadbolt into place.

The apartment felt empty again, but the air was thick with the scent of his cologne.

I walked back to the window and watched him emerge from the building.

He didn’t look up.

He got into the back of a black car that had pulled up behind the silver SUV.

The car drove away, its red taillights disappearing into the Brooklyn mist.