We walked past the quiet corner office where Oscar had once sat across a mahogany table offering me a smaller settlement to give up my audit rights.

The frosted glass door was bare now, waiting for a new bookshop to move in on the first of the month.

By half past four, Samuel and I were walking along the stone path at the Valle estate.

White mountain lilies were blooming in thick clusters beside the terraced garden beds, their scent heavy in the warm afternoon air.

Tall pines shaded the long asphalt driveway where the five luxury SUVs had gathered on Easter Sunday.

The gravel was raked smooth and silent now, bordered by clean stone walls that stretched toward the edge of the forest.