I have found, over the years, that the quietest sentence in the room is often the one people remember.

Julian’s easy smile flickered, just slightly, because that was not the response he had prepared for.

He had prepared for shouting, for tears, for a scene he could manage.

He had not prepared for a calm woman giving him a deadline.

But he had not yet begun to worry, not really, because he still had his card to play, the one he had clearly been holding for exactly this kind of moment.

Chapter 9 — You Think You’re Tenants?