I picked them both up and poured them into the sink.

I watched the dark brown coffee swirl down the drain, followed by a stream of hot water.

Upstairs, Solene was shouting at the officer, her voice muffled but furious.

I went into the dining room and touched the silver tea service on the sideboard.

It was still here, safe under the glass.

I could hear the heavy thud of Solene’s suitcase being dragged down the wooden stairs, one step at a time.

I walked back to the hallway.

Solene stood at the bottom of the stairs, her coat half-buttoned, her hair messy.

She was clutching a large canvas bag and dragging a rolling suitcase behind her.

“You will regret this,” she whispered, her voice trembling with rage.

“I don’t think I will,” I said.

Officer Miller held the front door open for her.

She glared at me one last time, then wheeled her bag over the threshold and out into the cold morning.

The door clicked shut behind her.

Officer Miller looked at me, his expression softening slightly.