I sank back into the leather chair, feeling the weight of the silence in the room.

My skin felt hot and dry, a constant reminder of the night of the fire.

I reached into my purse and pulled out a small tube of prescription ointment.

Slowly, I rubbed the cream into the back of my left hand.

The smell of the medicated cream filled the small office space.

“We will file an emergency motion to unfreeze the accounts,” Marisol said.

“How long will that take?” I asked.

“A judge has to sign off on it,” she said. “It could take three days. It could take a week.”

“A week with no money,” I said.

“I can advance you some cash for groceries,” Marisol said gently.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You have done too much already.”

“We are partners in this,” she said. “I am not letting you starve because of his fraud.”

I looked down at my phone again.

The smart appliance app was still open.

I had installed the system myself because Derek never understood technology.