He turned and walked down the steps, disappearing into the crowd of people rushing to the light rail station.

Elena walked me to her sedan.

“We have a lot of paperwork to process for the liquidation,” she said as she started the engine.

“But the hard part is done.”

Three months later, the autumn rain had turned to a light, wet snow.

I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse apartment.

The city lights below were blurred by the white flakes drifting past.

On the kitchen island lay a stack of certified documents from the federal receiver.

The final distribution had been approved.

Voss Holdings was no more.

The corporate offices had been cleared out, the mahogany furniture auctioned off, and the brand name dissolved.

Every dollar that Patricia had funneled into her lifestyle had been recovered from the sale of their properties and investments.

My bank account was whole again.

More than that, the name Voss had been legally stripped from my professional life.

I had filed the paperwork to return to my maiden name.

The phone on the counter buzzed.