I did not answer it.

I stared at the manila envelope in my mother’s hand.

A cold dread washed over my chest.

They were not here for a weekend visit.

They had legal documents.

I picked up my new keys from the counter and walked toward the apartment door.

The elevator ride down to the lobby was quiet.

The indicator lights ticked down from the twenty-fourth floor.

I held my apartment keys tightly in my right hand.

The brass edges dug into my palm.

When the doors slid open, the cool, air-conditioned air of the lobby hit my face.

The sound of children screaming echoed off the marble walls.

Leo and Toby were jumping on the Italian leather sofa near the fountain.

The two younger girls, Lily and Grace, were drawing on a glossy magazine with a blue crayon.

Luis stood behind his mahogany desk, his posture stiff.

He looked relieved when he saw me walk out of the elevator bank.

“Mr. Collins,” Luis said, stepping forward.

My mother and sister turned around instantly.

Hannah dropped her phone back into her designer purse.