I looked toward the entrance of the country club, where Gloria was just stepping out onto the driveway, her face pale under the harsh Texas sun.

“Let him try,” I said.

I hung up on Sterling and switched back to Graham’s line.

“Jocelyn? Are you there?” he gasped.

“I am going to my office, Graham,” I said, my voice flat. “Meet me there in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank God,” he breathed. “I knew you wouldn’t let the family ruin. I’m already on my way.”

I ended the call before he could say another word.

Outside my windshield, Gloria was walking toward her Lexus, her heels clicking sharply on the concrete.

She did not see me behind the tinted glass of my mid-sized SUV.

I put the car in drive and pulled out of the country club parking lot, turning south toward downtown Dallas.

The midday heat radiated off the asphalt in waves.

My office was located in a modest brick building on the edge of the medical district.

To Graham and his mother, it was just the place where I worked as a mid-level administrator for a commercial property management firm.