The penthouse fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.

The remaining officer turned to Patricia. “Ma’am, you need to leave the premises immediately.”

Patricia adjusted the lapels of her expensive wool coat, her composure returning like a mask.

“I will be discussing this with my attorneys,” she said, looking directly at me.

“We look forward to it,” Elena replied.

Patricia turned and walked to the elevator, her high heels clicking sharply on the hardwood.

The officer followed her out to ensure she left the building.

Once they were gone, the strength left my legs.

I sank into the nearest chair, my hands trembling against my knees.

Elena closed the heavy double doors of the study, shutting out the rest of the penthouse.

“Are you alright?” she asked gently.

“I think so,” I said, breathing out a long breath. “Look at the desk.”

Elena walked over, pulling a pair of thin latex gloves from her briefcase.

She carefully spread out the papers Patricia had been forced to leave behind.

They were bank ledgers, detailed and messy, with handwritten notes in the margins.