He reached out, grabbed the leather strap of my everyday bag off the brass wall hook and yanked the front pocket open in one hard pull.

He took out my main key ring and my blue leather wallet, then dropped the empty bag onto the rug behind his heels.

“You’re not leaving this house until your name is on this paper,” David said.

He stepped forward with his thick arms folded across his chest, crowding me back toward the hall runner until my heel bumped the decorative baseboard.

“I need my winter coat,” I said.