He walked toward the door, his wet boots leaving dark prints on the tile.

I followed him, stepping out into the cold Brooklyn air.

The rain had turned into a light drizzle, but the wind was sharp.

Mallerie was leaning against the side of the police car, her eyes locked on Carl as he approached.

“You think you won, Carl?” Mallerie spat, her voice raw. “You think you can keep this place without me?”

Carl stopped a few feet away from her.

The flashing lights painted his face in alternating shades of red and blue.

“I don’t need to win anything, Mallerie,” Carl said quietly. “I just want my life back.”

“You’re nothing without my money,” Mallerie sneered, struggling against the cuffs. “This building is falling apart.”

“It’s standing,” Carl said. “And you’re leaving.”

Jake was already in the back of the other cruiser, his forehead pressed against the glass.

He looked small in the back seat, his bravado completely gone.

The officer opened the door of the car and guided Mallerie inside.

She didn’t look at Carl again, but she glared at Derek, who had followed us out onto the steps.