He didn’t look at the guests or the wine on the floor.

He looked directly at Graham.

Elliot’s phone buzzed in his hand, the screen glowing bright in the dim entry hall.

Elliot closed the door behind him, the latch clicking into place.

He shook the water from his shoulders, leaving dark spots on the limestone floor of the foyer.

“Elliot,” Graham said, his voice cracking slightly. “This is a domestic dispute. Arden has lost her mind.”

Elliot did not look at Graham.

He walked past the spilled wine, his leather soles sticking to the wet oak floor.

“It’s not a domestic dispute, Graham,” Elliot said.

He held up his phone, the screen still glowing bright in the dim entry hall.

“I just received an emergency alert from the compliance committee,” Elliot said.

I held the remote control tightly in my palm.

“The entire audit board received it,” I said. “Precisely twelve minutes ago.”

Graham took a step toward me, but Maren shifted her weight, putting herself between us.

“What did you do, Arden?” Graham whispered.

“I packaged everything,” I said.