I stared at the folders.
“I already know one thing.”
“What?”
“I’m not giving Rachel my house.”
Margaret’s expression softened.
“That sounds like a very good place to start.”
We were still sitting at the kitchen table when the doorbell rang.
I looked at the clock.
It was barely noon.
I knew who it was before I stood up.
Rachel had promised that Tyler would come later.
Apparently, later had arrived sooner than expected.
I walked to the front door and looked through the glass.
Tyler stood on the porch.
Rachel was beside him.
He wore the dark suit he usually reserved for important meetings. His tie was slightly crooked, and his expression suggested he had spent the entire drive rehearsing what he intended to say.
Rachel looked composed again.
When I opened the door, Tyler spoke immediately.
“Debra, we need to talk.”
I stepped aside.
“Then come in.”
He looked surprised by my calmness.
