“She sent me to get what belongs to the family,” Ethan said. “And once I have it, we are selling it. The whole lot. The developers are paying four million.”

Megan let out a sharp, breathy laugh.

“Four million,” Megan said. “And you told me we were going to live here. You told me we were going to raise our child in this house.”

“We can buy a better house,” Ethan said, not looking at her. “A modern one. Without all this rot.”

“You never cared about Waverly Lane,” Megan said. “You just wanted the money to pay off your bad investments in the city.”

“I had to pay them back, Megan!” Ethan screamed, his composure finally breaking. “Do you know what they do to people who don’t pay?”

He pointed the gun directly at my head.

“Sign it!” he yelled. “Write your name on the line!”

I took a breath and pressed the pen against the paper.

I didn’t write my name.

I drew a long, jagged line across the signature block, ripping the paper slightly.

“You missed,” Ethan hissed, stepping closer.