By two o’clock, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets below wet and shiny under the pale sun.

My phone rang again.

It was my home number.

I answered it, expecting our housekeeper, but it was my oldest son, Liam.

“Mom?” his voice was small and confused.

“There are reporters outside the gate.”

“They are taking pictures of the house.”

“Where is Dad?”

I took a deep breath, keeping my voice steady.

“Liam, listen to me,” I said.

“I am coming home right now.”

“Go inside, close the blinds, and do not answer the door for anyone.”

“Is Dad okay?” he asked.

“He is with his lawyers, Liam,” I said.

“I will explain everything when I get there.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom,” he said.

I hung up and stood up from the table.

“I have to go to Highland Park,” I told Maren.

“I will handle the rest of the board calls from the car,” she said.

“Take care of your boys.”

I gathered my purse and walked down to the parking garage.