Inside, I saw Connor, Smith, and a woman I recognized instantly from photos even though we had never met in person. It was Angela, Scott’s business partner who he always insisted was only a colleague.
I stayed outside and watched every movement with a pounding heart. Smith handed over documents, Connor signed something, and Angela smiled with a confidence that suggested everything was going according to plan.
They left together and entered a dark SUV, and the tracker signal moved again, this time heading toward Brookside where our house stood. I followed them in a taxi, keeping enough distance to avoid being noticed.
From the corner of the street, I saw Connor unlock the front door with my keys and walk inside with them as if I had already been erased. I stayed outside, shaking as I imagined my belongings being treated like property to divide.
I returned to the café and opened my laptop, determined to follow the only lead Scott had left me. Using the password he gave me, I accessed his email account and searched carefully.
There, I found a message scheduled to send the next day addressed directly to me. My hands trembled as I opened it.