Chapter 4: Terms

Maggie read the statement standing in her kitchen in her socks.

She read it twice. Then she sat down on the floor with her back against the cabinet.

"He paid it," she said. "Two hundred and twelve thousand dollars."

"I'm taking it back."

"Hal, he paid it off."

"That's why I'm taking it back." I picked up my coat. "He doesn't get to buy a door and then tell me I can't close it."

"Hallie." Maggie looked up from the floor. "I want to say don't. But part of me wants to hug him, and that part is really ashamed of itself."

"It should be."

"It is." She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand. "Go. Be loud."

I was in the Maddox lobby by nine.

It was the busiest hour of the day. Two hundred people were crossing the marble in suits, badges swinging, with coffee in their hands.

I walked straight to the center, under the big chandelier, and stopped there.

The statement was in my fist.

"Mr. Maddox!" I said.

I wasn't shouting. I had spent four years learning how to make my voice carry across a room without it sounding like shouting.

Heads turned.

By the second time I said his name, the lobby had gone quiet.

The security guard looked at me and then at the elevators and did nothing.

He had met me at three in the morning. He knew better.

The private elevator at the back of the lobby opened.

Elliot stepped out.

He had the jacket on again and the tie fixed. His hair was still a little wrong on one side, and I knew he hadn't slept.

He came across the marble toward me, and nobody in the lobby moved.

He stopped at arm's length.

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