The silence stretched between us, filled only by the crackling of the logs in the hearth.

Damon looked down at his glass, then back at me, his expression unreadable.

“Very well,” he said. “The east wing is yours. We leave tonight.”

Two hours later, I was packing our lives into three small suitcases while Marlene watched from the doorway of our apartment.

“You don’t have to do this, Nora,” she said, her eyes red from crying. “We could find a lawyer. We could fight him.”

“He has more money than the entire county, Marlene,” I said, zipping the last suitcase. “He would tie you up in court until you lost everything. I won’t let him do that to you.”

I hugged her tightly, smelling the comforting scent of vanilla and yeast that always clung to her clothes.

“Thank you for saving us four years ago,” I whispered in her ear.

“Keep him safe,” she whispered back, looking over at Leo, who was asleep on the small sofa with his favorite toy train.

The drive to the private airstrip in Houghton was silent, the tires of the SUV humming against the snowy asphalt.