Through the feed, I heard the heavy front door open.

“Where the hell have you been?” Liam barked.

“At my mother’s,” Clara said. Her voice was remarkably steady. I felt a surge of pride.

“Did you get her to sign the property over?” Liam demanded, ice clinking in a glass. “I have investors coming to our charity gala tomorrow night. I need collateral.”

“She won’t sell, Liam.”

A loud crash — Liam had thrown his glass against the wall. I half-stood in the van, gripping the door handle, but Julian held up a hand, urging me to wait.