I had never applied for one.

My grandmother had paid off the mortgage twenty years before she died.

The house was supposed to be completely free of debt.

I looked back at the post-nuptial agreement on the counter.

The paper seemed to glare at me under the harsh light.

I needed to see what else Rylan was hiding.

I walked quietly down the hallway toward Rylan’s small home office.

He was upstairs with his mother; I could hear their voices muffled through the ceiling.

They were laughing.

I slipped into the office and shut the door behind me, leaving it slightly ajar.

The room smelled of stale coffee and Rylan’s cologne.

His desk was neat, as always.

I went straight for the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet.

It was locked.

I searched the desk drawers, my hands shaking so hard I dropped a container of paperclips.

They scattered across the hardwood floor with a loud, metallic clatter.

I froze, holding my breath, listening for any sound from upstairs.

The laughing stopped.

“Rylan?” Solene’s voice called out from the landing.

“Did you hear that?”