“I am leaving him,” I said.

Arthur looked at me for a long moment, then turned to Miller.

“Let’s go,” Arthur said.

The three men walked out of the room, their heavy footsteps fading down the hardwood stairs.

The front door clicked shut, leaving the house silent again.

The phone in my pocket vibrated, and I answered it.

“Clara?” Lila said. “Are they gone?”

“Yes,” I said. “They are gone.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“You should get a lawyer, Lila,” I said, and then I hung up.

I walked down the long, carpeted hallway to the dining room.

Ethan was sitting at the mahogany table, an empty crystal glass of scotch in front of him.

The chandelier overhead cast a bright, harsh light on his wrinkled shirt.

I laid the divorce papers on the table in front of him.

He looked up, his eyes bloodshot and unfocused.

“Clara, please,” he said. “You have to help me. Arthur is trying to pin the whole escrow deficit on me.”

“You did take the money, Ethan,” I said. “You signed the wire authorizations.”