I checked the camera on my phone. It was Madison.

She was alone. No designer luggage. No Evan. No leased Mercedes in the driveway. She wore a faded coat, hair pulled into a messy knot. She looked thinner, exhausted, and remarkably human.

I opened the door, leaving the chain engaged.

“I’m not here to ask for money,” she said immediately, her voice missing its usual theatrical resonance.

“Good,” I replied. “Because there isn’t any.”

She swallowed hard. “Evan left me. The debt collectors garnished his wages. He moved back to Ohio with his parents. I’m… working at a coffee shop downtown.