Vanessa glanced over the dining room, her eyes shining with cold satisfaction.

Vanessa gave a chilly smirk and pointed at the wooden floorboards.

The appraiser showed up at eight in the morning with a heavy black plastic case and an aluminum clipboard with a cracked corner.

His name was Arthur, and his leather tool belt carried a little laser distance meter that blinked red when he took it out of the pouch.

Vanessa stood next to him on the gray porch steps in her worn trench coat, her arms clamped tight against her ribs.