“Be careful, Mom,” Chloe said as she got out of the car.

“I will,” I said.

I drove downtown, the glass skyscrapers of Austin reflecting the bright afternoon sun.

Gloria’s office was on the twelfth floor of a building overlooking the Colorado River.

The reception area was quiet, smelling of expensive leather and polished wood.

Gloria met me at the door, her silver hair perfectly smooth, her gray suit pressed.

“Richard is already in the main conference room with his attorney, Harold Croft,” she said.

“Are they confident?” I asked.

“Richard looks like he thinks he’s already won,” Gloria said. “He doesn’t know what I spent the last three hours doing.”

She led me down the hallway to a room with floor-to-ceiling windows.

Richard sat at the long mahogany table, wearing a custom navy suit.

His new wife, Valerie, was not there.

His attorney, a bald man with sharp eyes, sat next to him with a stack of manila folders.

Richard smirked when I walked in.

“You really thought you could just carry my house away in the middle of the night, Alex?” he said.