I touched the bandage on my collarbone, feeling the tender swelling beneath the gauze.

“I know,” he whispered. “I know she did.”

“So why is there a video circulating that makes it look like I attacked her?”

Daniel did not answer immediately.

I heard the sound of a car horn in the background of his call, loud and distorted.

“Daniel, answer me.”

“Michael held the papers over my head, Liz,” he said, his voice cracking.

“The bridge loan for the townhouse. He funded the entire development project.”

I closed my eyes and saw the clean lines of my brother’s new suburban home.

“How much do you owe him?” I asked.

“Two hundred and fifty thousand,” Daniel said.

The number hung in the air between us, heavy and cold.

“He told me he would foreclose by the end of the month,” Daniel said.

“He said he would take everything, and he would make sure my partners knew why.”

“And what did you have to do to keep your house?” I asked.

“Patricia had the footage from the kitchen smart-camera,” Daniel said.

My stomach dropped, a sudden, sickening plunge.