In the kitchen, I heard the swinging door open as one of the servers went to answer it.

“It’s probably just the final contract,” I said, looking directly at Derek.

“I wanted you to see it tonight.”

“Tonight?” Derek asked, his face pale under the dining room chandelier.

“Yes,” I said.

“While we have such distinguished witnesses.”

The server entered the dining room, carrying the yellow envelope on a silver tray.

“For Mr. Lambert,” the server said, standing near Derek’s chair.

“It requires a signature.”

“Thank you,” Derek said, his hand shaking slightly as he took the pen.

He signed the slip, his eyes darting to the bold lettering on the front of the envelope.

The return address was clearly marked.

It was from the law offices of Annika Vance.

“Open it, Derek,” I said, my voice steady and calm.

“I think everyone would love to see what we’re planning.”

Derek stared down at the yellow paper, his thumb smoothing over the typed return address.

The silence in the dining room grew heavy, punctured only by the faint hum of the heating vent.