I walked into the room with slow, deliberate steps, the heels of my shoes clicking against the hardwood border of the carpet.

I chose the leather armchair directly opposite Graham and sat down.

I placed my leather handbag on the polished mahogany table.

“This is a highly confidential closing, Jocelyn,” Gloria said, her voice dripping with cold condescension. “You have absolutely no business being in this room.”

She looked past me, glare fixing on the receptionist who was visible through the glass.

“Someone needs to teach the staff how to screen visitors,” Gloria muttered, turning her head back to Graham. “Get her out of here so we can finish.”

Graham cleared his throat and looked at the bank representative, his face flushing a light pink.

“I apologize, Mr. Henderson,” Graham said, offering a weak smile. “My wife must have gotten confused. We are in the middle of a separation, and she is clearly trying to cause a scene.”

Mr. Henderson, a gray-haired man in a charcoal suit, looked between Graham and me with a furrowed brow.

Sterling stepped into the room behind me, closing the glass door with a firm click.