Patrick’s footsteps crunched on the gravel as he came back around the garage, his face pale under his tan.

“Chloe, take the car and go back to the office,” Patrick called, looking at neither of us.

“The audit team gets there at two.”

Chloe hurried down the porch steps without another word, leaving the front door standing open behind her.

I went back inside to the kitchen island and laid the three-page divorce agreement in the middle of the granite.

Patrick came in through the door a moment later and tossed his phone onto the counter.