“No,” I said. “They have their phones. They can manage.”

We watched as they reached the halfway point under the swaying pine trees.

The wind caught Claire’s light scarf, ripping it from her neck and sending it tumbling into the wet bushes.

She did not even try to chase it.

At the gates, the security guard on duty opened the small pedestrian side-gate.

The family stepped through, one by one, onto the public sidewalk.

The heavy iron gate swung shut behind them with a loud, metallic clang that echoed across the bay.

They stood there under the single streetlamp, surrounded by their luggage.

A passing car splashed water from the curb as it drove by, soaking the bottom of Vivian’s long coat.

They did not look back again.

“It is finished,” Mr. Vance said, closing his briefcase with a sharp snap.

“Thank you, Mr. Vance,” I said. “Please ensure the transition team takes over the Mercer properties first thing tomorrow.”

“The notices have already been sent to their bank,” he replied. “The locks will be changed by noon.”

He bowed slightly and walked back toward his car.