“Mark,” she gasped, taking a step toward me. “Thank God you’re here.”

“Where is the man in the grey suit?” I asked, looking around the room.

“He went back down,” Hannah whispered. “He handed me a paper through the elevator doors before they closed.”

She pointed to the marble kitchen island.

A folded white envelope lay on the counter.

I walked over and picked it up.

Inside was a formal demand letter from a private lending firm, listing an astronomical debt.

“How did they find you here, Hannah?” I asked, keeping my voice low so the children wouldn’t hear.

“They have been tracking my car,” she said, her voice shaking. “They have people everywhere.”

“Where is Luke?” I demanded. “Why isn’t your husband dealing with this?”

Hannah covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking as she sobbed.

“Luke is gone, Mark,” she cried.

I stared at her, waiting for her to explain.

“What do you mean, gone?” I asked.

“He left the country,” she whispered, looking down at the floor. “He took the last of our savings and bought a one-way ticket.”