She looked down at the broken glass, then at Thomas, her face tightening into a cold, hard mask.

“It is nearly midnight,” Patricia said, her voice dripping with artificial warmth. “Thomas, surely your billing hours ended hours ago.”

“I am assisting Claire with the transition of the estate, Patricia,” Thomas said, his voice steady and professional. “My hours are of no concern to you.”

Patricia turned her gaze to me, her eyes lingering on my coat pocket where the brass key was hidden.

“We have a lot to discuss tomorrow, Claire,” she said. “The estate agents will be here at noon.”

“I will be ready,” I said.

Thomas gave my shoulder a brief, reassuring squeeze before he walked toward the heavy front door.

“Tomorrow morning, Claire,” he murmured as he passed me. “Call me the moment you have it.”

I locked the door behind him and went straight to my room, turning the key in my lock for the first time in years.

I did not sleep.

I lay awake on top of the covers, watching the headlights of occasional cars sweep across the ceiling.