It fell onto the dark marble of the kitchen counter.

The head snapped off with a sharp bounce, rolling into the sink.

Rosa did not even try to catch it.

She pressed her palms against her mouth, her shoulders shaking.

“Ramiro,” my father said, his voice barely a breath. “Answer it.”

Ramiro picked up the heavy black receiver.

“Security,” Ramiro said.

He listened for three seconds, his jaw tightening.

“Hold him at the outer gate,” Ramiro ordered. “No one enters without Mr. Duarte’s direct signature.”

Ramiro pressed the button to disconnect, then looked at my father.

“It is the courier,” Ramiro said. “He has the secondary filing for the estate transfer.”

“Patricia’s courier,” I said.

“Yes,” Ramiro said. “He says he has instructions signed by Ms. Patricia to bypass the main security check.”

On the main monitor, Patricia was standing up from the desk in the study.

She smoothed the front of her beige silk trousers.

She turned to Vance, her lawyer, and gave him a brief, sharp nod.

Then she reached into her pocket.

She pulled out a small, crumpled piece of blue notepad paper.