His face began to lose its color, a gray shadow falling over his cheeks.

“Dad,” Megan said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

She took another step back, her heel hitting the baseboard of the cabinet.

“Don’t touch me,” he said.

He didn’t yell.

The quietness of his voice was far worse than any shouting.

He turned back to the laptop, his eyes scanning the final column of numbers, the total balance remaining in his accounts.

The screen lit up his face, showing the exact moment the realization hit him.

His phone, resting on the table next to the unsigned deed, suddenly began to vibrate.

The phone buzzed against the dark wood of the table.

It slid an inch to the left, shaking right next to the unsigned deed of my apartment.

Nobody moved to answer it.

My father’s eyes stayed fixed on the glowing screen of my laptop.

He reached out with a trembling index finger and scrolled down the spreadsheet.

“What is ‘Palazzo Rentals’?” he asked.

His voice was thin, like dry paper tearing.

“That’s her apartment building,” Lauren said from the corner of the room.