“Of course,” she said.

“I will give you forty-eight hours.”

“But if I see your lawyer filing any more motions in court, the deal is off.”

“And your friends will find out just how cold the winter can be.”

She stood up, her coat swirling around her ankles.

She did not touch the envelope.

“Keep it for now,” she said.

“As a reminder of what is at stake.”

She turned and signaled to the two men in dark suits.

The heavy brass doors of The Marigold Room clicked shut behind them, leaving only the scent of her perfume in the drafty room.

I stood there for a long moment, the silence of the empty restaurant pressing in on me.

Then I grabbed the envelope and walked straight to the kitchen.

The swinging doors pushed open to reveal Mr. Alvarez scrubbing a stainless-steel prep table.

His brow was furrowed, his old hands red from the hot soapy water.

“Are you alright, Harper?” he asked, looking up with worry in his eyes.

“I saw her come in with those men.”