On an Autumn Evening in Manhattan, Fifty Million Dollars Signed Away Eleven Long Years

I opened my tote bag and laid a small brass key on the wooden table.

It was the key I’d taken from Spencer’s locked mahogany desk drawer the night I packed my clothes at the townhouse.

Theo looked down at the brass key.

“What does that open?”

“A gray tin box in his office desk,” I said.

“He locked it every time Dr.

Vance called the house.”

Nora leaned in toward her screen in Midtown.