“He made his choices, Chloe,” I said. “He thought he could take everything and leave us with nothing.”

We sat in the quiet cabin of the car for a moment.

I looked at my hands on the steering wheel, steady and still.

The afternoon sun hit the dashboard, warming the leather.

My phone buzzed again, this time with a text from Gloria Vance.

*Check the local news site,* it read.

I opened the browser on my phone and refreshed the homepage.

There it was, right below the fold.

A headline read: *Westlake Hills Divorce Drama: Million-Dollar Home Vanishes Overnight.*

The article featured a picture of the empty concrete slab, contrasted with an older listing photo of our beautiful home.

It detailed Richard’s attempt to seize the property and how the land’s deed, protected by my late father, prevented him from doing so.

Underneath, the comments section was already filling up with local residents mocking Richard’s arrogance.

My phone rang again.

This time it was Nathan Cole.

“Have you seen the news?” he asked when I answered.

“I just did,” I said.