We left the office and drove back toward the Carter estate for the final walkthrough and key exchange.

The rain had turned the driveway into a muddy mess.

A large yellow moving truck was parked on the grass, its ramp resting on the wet turf.

Margaret Carter stood on the porch, wrapped in a beige cashmere shawl that looked damp and heavy.

She watched me get out of Arthur’s car, her eyes filled with resentment.

“You’re a monster, Emily,” Margaret said as I approached the porch. “You’re throwing us out onto the street.”

“You have a condo downtown, Margaret,” I said. “The court didn’t seize that.”

“It’s a tiny box,” she spat. “It’s not where we belong.”

“You belong wherever you can afford to live,” I said.

Daniel came out of the house, carrying a cardboard box filled with framed photos and desk ornaments.

He looked exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and a stubble of beard on his jaw.

“The movers are almost done,” Daniel said, not looking me in the eye.

“The new owner’s representative will be here in fifteen minutes,” I said. “You need to be gone by then.”