Her face was shadowed, but I could still feel the weight of her glare through the dark glass.

The cruiser doors slammed shut with a heavy, metallic thud.

The sirens quieted to a low, pulsing hum, and the convoy slowly drove away into the gray morning.

“She’s gone,” I whispered, pulling my knees toward my chest.

“For now,” Richard said softly.

He reached over and placed his warm hand over my cold fingers.

“But we have a new problem.”

“The caller,” I said. “What did he mean by a debt?”

“Your late husband, Charles, was involved in things he kept hidden from you,” Richard said.

He put the SUV in drive and turned us back toward the highway.

“We need to meet with Nora immediately.”

The drive back to Greenwich was silent.

I watched the windshield wipers sweep back and forth, clearing the relentless rain.

My thoughts kept drifting to my girls, safe at Richard’s estate with Mrs. Alvarez.

They deserved a real home, free from fear and lawyers and threats.

We arrived at Nora Singh’s office in downtown Greenwich an hour later.