She simply removed the one thing they wanted — the contract that stood between their crumbling estate and the foreclosure closing in on it — and she did it in the span of a phone call, without ever raising her voice above the level of a woman ordering lunch.

She would not shout at people who had shown her exactly who they were.

She would only make sure they never got a single thing from her family again.

That was not anger.

It was a verdict.

Chapter 8 — The Manager’s Face