The lock turned with a soft, metallic click.

I pushed the door open.

The hallway smelled of expensive perfume and fresh paint.

I heard voices coming from the living room upstairs.

Ethan was raising his voice.

Lila was crying.

I climbed the stairs slowly, my heels sinking into the thick carpet.

At the landing, I stopped.

The living room door was open.

Ethan was pacing the floor, his tie undone, his hair disheveled.

Lila sat on the velvet sofa, her face buried in her hands.

“They took everything, Lila,” Ethan was saying.

“The board voted me out.”

“The feds are at the office right now.”

“What do you mean, they took everything?” Lila sobbed.

“What about the apartment?”

“It’s under the firm’s holding company,” Ethan said.

“They will evict you by the end of the week.”

I stepped into the doorway.

“Actually,” I said.

“It is under my name.”

Both of them whipped their heads toward me.

Lila gasped, her eyes widening in terror.

Ethan stopped pacing, his face twisting in a mix of anger and desperation.

“Clara,” he breathed.

“How did you get in here?”