Every message was about the money.

And by six o’clock that evening, when the calls had failed, the first heavy fist began pounding against my front door.

Chapter 10 — Open This Door

The pounding rattled the glass panes set into the heavy wooden door.

“Hannah, open this door immediately!” my father shouted from the porch.

“We need to talk about what you have done with this money!”

I stood motionless in the dark foyer, a thick stack of finalized legal documents in my right hand, and I did not move toward the door, and I did not move away.