The heavy humidity of Miami hit me the moment I stepped out of the terminal.

My shoulder muscles ached from the thirteen-hour flight from Buenos Aires.

I dragged my black flight bag through the sliding glass doors of my apartment building.

The lobby air conditioning was ice-cold and smelled of clean linen.

Luis stood behind the high marble front desk, straightening his uniform jacket.

He gave me a respectful nod.

“Welcome back, Captain Collins,” Luis said.

“Thank you, Luis,” I said, leaning against the cold stone counter. “Are the new keys ready?”

He reached under the counter and slid a bright brass key toward me.

“The locksmith finished an hour ago,” Luis said. “The deadbolt on twenty-four is completely replaced.”

“Perfect,” I said. “Did my sister or mother call down here?”

Luis shook his head, his eyes scanning the quiet lobby.

“Not today, sir,” he said.

I took the heavy key and rode the mirrored elevator to the twenty-fourth floor.

My apartment was silent and dark.

The afternoon sun filtered through the sheer grey curtains, casting long shadows across the hardwood floor.

I dropped my bags by the coat rack and sat on the leather sofa.

The silence was exactly what I needed after three days of jet engines and cabin pressure.

Hannah had texted me twice during my layover.

She wanted to know my exact landing time.

I had not replied.

Experience had taught me that a sudden text from my sister always carried a hidden cost.

The last time she asked for help, she left her oldest boy in my living room for five days.

This time, I had taken precautions.

The new lock was my boundary.

I closed my eyes and let my head sink into the soft cushion.

The intercom beside the kitchen counter buzzed, loud and sharp.

I opened my eyes and looked at the wall clock.

It was barely three in the afternoon.

I walked over to the wall monitor and tapped the glass screen to activate the lobby camera.

My mother, Linda, was standing near the glass entrance doors.

Hannah stood right behind her, clutching a large leather handbag.