“Garrett,” Dale said, stepping right into the middle of the aisle between me and the two guards.

“What are they doing?”

“She filed emergency papers,” I said, keeping a steady pace toward the exit.

“She’s locked me out of my own building.”

Dale wiped his greasy hands on the red rag and looked past my shoulder at the two guards trailing three feet behind.

“I saw her turn Megan away at the gate back in February,” Dale said quietly.

“Megan had those newborn twins in the back of a beat-up sedan, and Tiffany threatened to call the county sheriff on her right there on the gravel.”