"My wife isn't a wife.

Bradley called four more times before evening.

Nora didn't answer.

After the fourth call, she turned her phone to silent and left it on the kitchen counter while she and Delia worked through the folder again at the table.

Conrad sat nearby, reading through the financial summary with the careful attention of someone who had spent years learning to understand documents that had been used against his family.

"There's a gap," he said, setting the pages down.

"Between when the pension accounts were restructured and when the money moved.

Three weeks.

If someone was inside the company at that point, they'd have seen the transfer orders."

"Bradley's personal accountant," Nora said.

"A man named Garrett.

He's been with Bradley since before I married him.

He comes to the house twice a year.

Bradley always clears the calendar on those days and asks me to stay out of the office wing."

Delia looked up.

"Full name?"

"Garrett Solis.

I have his card somewhere.

He gave it to me once in case of an emergency and Bradley couldn't be reached." She paused.

"Bradley was furious when he found out."

"Why would he be furious about his wife having his accountant's contact information?"

"I didn't understand it then." Nora looked at the table.

"I do now."

Delia wrote the name down.

"I need to get into that drawer."

"The house has a security system.

Bradley changed the code after I left.

I don't have access anymore."

"What about before you left?

Did you ever see inside it?"

Nora was quiet for a moment.

"Once," she said.

"By accident.

I was looking for the warranty folder for the refrigerator.

I pulled the wrong drawer.

It wasn't locked yet — this was maybe two years ago.

I saw the folders, realized it wasn't what I was looking for, and closed it." She pressed her fingers together.

"But I remember one of the labels.

It said Vance Settlement — Final."

The room went completely still.

Conrad didn't move.

"He kept a file with your family's name on it," Delia said.

Her voice was flat.

"I didn't know what it meant at the time.

I didn't know Conrad existed.

I didn't know anything about your father." Nora looked at Conrad.

"I'm sorry.

I should have asked.

I should have asked about a lot of things."

"You didn't know what you were looking at," Conrad said.

"That's not an excuse."

"No," he said.

"But it's the truth."

Delia stood up and walked to the window.

She stood there for a moment with her back to the room.

"If that file exists," she said, "and if it contains what I think it contains, it's enough.

Not just for the pension claim.

For everything." She turned around.

"We need to get into that house."

"I told you, I don't have access —"

"You don't need access." Delia came back to the table.

"You need a reason for Bradley to open the door himself." She looked at Nora steadily.

"And I think you already know what that reason is."

Nora understood immediately.

"You want me to go back."

"Not to stay.

Not to give him anything.

Just long enough to get into that office." Delia's voice was careful.

"He'll let you in if he thinks you're coming home.

He'll be so focused on believing he's won that he won't be watching the office."

"And if he's watching anyway?"

"Then we walk out and we find another way." Delia sat down.

"But Nora — that file has your name on it too, in a way.

You lived in that house.

You signed documents.

If this ever goes to a formal investigation, they will look at you."

The words landed quietly.

"She's right," Conrad said.

He was still looking at the table.

"I'm not saying go.

That's your decision.

But she's right about the exposure."

Nora sat with that for a long moment.

Bradley's text was still face-down on the counter.

*Come home, Nora.

I mean it.*

He thought she was afraid of him.

He had always thought that.

"When?" she said.

Delia allowed herself one small breath.

"Two days.

I need time to set up."

That night, after Delia left, Nora stood at the kitchen sink washing the dinner dishes.

Conrad came in and picked up a towel without asking.

They worked in silence for a while.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

"I know."

"Delia pushes hard.

She always has.

It's how she's built." He set a dry glass on the shelf.

"But she would find another way if you said no."

"Would she?"

A pause.

"Eventually."

Nora almost smiled.

"That's honest."

"I try to be." He set down the towel.

"Whatever you decide — you're not in this alone."

She looked at him.

He was already looking away, back toward the hallway, giving her the space to take the words however she needed to.

She turned back to the sink.

Outside the window, the desert was dark and enormous and completely quiet, and for the first time in a very long time, she didn't feel small inside it.

Her phone lit up on the counter.

A new text from Bradley.

*I've spoken to my attorney.

If you're not home by Friday, I'm filing for abandonment.

Don't test me.*

She read it once.

Set the phone back down.