And then Solene reached the clip from three weeks earlier, and called me before she sent it, because she wanted me to be sitting down.

In it, Valentina walks out of my apartment carrying things.

My designer handbags, over her arm.

A leather jewelry case that had been my grandmother’s.

And a stack of sealed folders from the desk in my home office — financial documents, the kind you do not carry off by accident.

She was not looking over her shoulder.