I thought about how easy it would be to tell a different story about those bruises.

The police always took the wife’s side first in this neighborhood.

I looked back up at Carl, my eyes narrowing as the desperate plan began to take shape in my mind.

I needed to get him away from his lawyer.

I needed to get him alone inside the apartment.

“Arthur,” I said, my tone suddenly shifting to something softer, more reasonable.

“Can we talk about this inside? Just Carl and me.”

“I advise against that, Carl,” Vance said immediately.

Carl looked at me.

His eyes searched my face, looking for the woman he thought he had married, but finding only the stranger standing in his doorway.

“Five minutes,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper.

“Just five minutes, Carl. For the sake of what we had.”

Carl stood silent for a long moment.

The radiator in the hallway hissed, releasing a cloud of steam that smelled of rust and old water.

“Five minutes,” Carl said.

Carl stepped inside, and the heavy oak door clicked shut behind him.