Chapter 2
The Riverside notary building looked more like a courthouse than an office.
Stone steps. Iron gate. Tall windows. Leafy trees shifting in the late-morning wind.
Jasper parked near the curb and came around to open my door as if we were a loving couple on an ordinary errand.
Mr. Reynolds waited near the entrance.
He was my father’s longtime business partner, though I had always thought of him as a man who wore too much cologne and smiled before he lied. That morning, he wore an expensive gray suit and a silk scarf tucked neatly under his coat.
“Camille,” he said, kissing the air near my cheek. “You’re doing the practical thing.”
Practical.
That was another word people used when they wanted a woman to ignore her own instincts.
Jasper walked ahead with a leather bag in his hand.
I followed more slowly.
That was when the cleaning woman appeared.
She was late sixties, maybe older, Black, with short gray hair tucked under a faded cap. She pushed a mop bucket toward the side door, eyes lowered like someone trained by years of being ignored.
Then she looked at me.
Her face changed.
Before I could speak, she stepped close and grabbed my arm.
Not hard enough to hurt.
Hard enough to wake me.
She shoved a dirty folded rag into my hand.
“Don’t sign yet,” she whispered.
I froze.
Jasper turned back from the steps.
“Camille, we’re late.”
The cleaning woman lowered her eyes instantly and pushed the mop forward like nothing had happened.
I forced my fingers around the rag and slipped it into my purse.
“What was that?” Jasper asked.
“Nothing,” I said, trying to smile. “She thought I dropped something.”
His eyes moved from my face to my purse.
For one second, I saw panic hiding underneath his polish.
Then Mr. Reynolds called from the door.
“Everything is ready.”
Jasper held out his hand.
“Come on.”
I took one step toward him.
May you like
But my purse felt heavier now.
Like something inside it had a pulse.
