The family that had spent the last hour cooing over a Cortland jaw and a Cortland nose went still and cold, and every one of them turned to look at Camila with the same dawning suspicion, and Suzanne took a small step back toward the door.

Before Bryce could say anything more, his phone buzzed hard in his pocket.

He pulled it out on reflex.

It was a text from the manager of his building:

Mr.

Cortland — we need to speak urgently regarding the lease status of the unit you’re occupying.

He stared at it, uncomprehending.

He did not yet have the room in his head to understand that the floor was giving way in two places at once.