For several long seconds, Gordon stood motionless. The old version of me would have rushed to fill the silence. She would have apologized, softened it, maybe offered money for a hotel.

I did none of those things.

Finally he lowered the papers. “Can we talk tomorrow?”

“My doctor ordered me to rest. I’m not spending tonight arguing.”

“Jocelyn—”

“The instructions from my attorney are attached. Read them.”