I got up and walked out into the silent hallway.

The house was cold, even with the radiators humming beneath the windows.

As I reached the end of the hall, I saw that Richard’s study door stood open three inches.

I stopped beside the doorframe.

Inside the study, Richard was pacing beside the mahogany desk with his cell phone held to his ear.

“We need her signature by five o’clock,” Richard said into the phone, his voice tight and clipped.

“If she signs the withdrawal of objection today, the court clerk logs it first thing tomorrow.”