Daniel’s face twisted.
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“It sounded extremely clear.”
“You’re taking it out of context.”
“What context makes it better?”
The front doorbell rang.
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
Emily did not move.
The bell rang again.
Then a key turned in the lock.
Uncle Robert entered first.
He was sixty-two, broad-shouldered, silver-haired, and still carried himself like the federal prosecutor he had once been. Beside him walked Nathan Cole, Emily’s attorney, holding a leather briefcase.
A uniformed security officer followed them.
Daniel stared.
“What is this?”
Robert stepped into the kitchen and surveyed the broken plate, Vanessa in Emily’s robe, and the wedding ring on the counter.
His eyes hardened.
“This,” he said, “is the moment you learn that marrying my niece did not make you the owner of her life.”
Nathan opened his briefcase.
“Daniel Mercer?”
Daniel did not answer.
Nathan removed a thick envelope.
“You are being formally notified that your permission to occupy this property has been revoked.”
Vanessa gave an incredulous laugh.
“You can’t evict us without notice.”
Nathan turned to her.
“You are not a tenant. You entered this morning as a guest. You are being asked to leave immediately.”
Daniel stepped closer to Emily.
“You planned this.”
Emily met his stare.
“No. You planned this.”
Her voice did not shake.
“I simply prepared for it.”
Robert placed the blue folder on the counter.
Daniel recognized it.
His eyes widened.
“Where did you get that?”