“You might want to keep your numbers straight.”

Brooke came down the stairs with a suitcase, her car keys clenched in her teeth.

“Brooke, wait,” Trent said.

She stood the case upright in the foyer and looked at him for the first time.

“You said this house was yours,” she said.

“You said all the money was yours.”

“It is mine.

It’s coming to me.