The sunlight strengthened on the terrace.

I walked to the safe behind the painting and entered the new code Amber had used.

It opened.

Inside were more papers a set of keys and a small recorder.

I lifted the recorder.

“What is this?” I asked.

Amber reached for it.

David stepped between us.

“Play it,” he said.

I pressed the button.

Amber’s voice filled the kitchen.

She was speaking to someone whose voice I did not recognize.

“She will be gone until October,” Amber said on the recording.

“The transfer can be recorded before she returns.”

“David will sign whatever we put in front of him if we tell him it protects Ethan.”

The recording ended.

David stared at the device.

“You recorded yourself,” he said.

“In case she fought it,” Amber answered.

“So we would have proof she was unstable.”

“You were going to say I was unstable,” I said.

“If I objected.”

“You disappear for months,” she said.

“You live alone on a cliff.”

“People would have believed it.”

Ethan tugged on David’s sleeve.

“Daddy I’m hungry,” he said.

David lifted him and held him against his chest.

“We are not selling the house,” he said.

“We are not moving.”

“And we are not using any company you formed.”

Amber’s eyes filled.

“You promised we would have our own place,” she said.

“You promised we would not live under her roof forever.”

“I promised we would fix the condo,” he answered.

“I never promised we would take her house.”

I set the recorder on the counter.

“The attorney is sending someone to secure the property,” I said.

“You may stay in the cottage until the hearing.”

“After that the court will decide who may enter the main house.”

Amber looked at her sister.

“We can still fight it,” the sister said.

“The earnest money is already spent,” Amber answered.

“On what?” David asked.

“On the condo,” she said.

“On the lawyer.”

“On the down payment for a place in town we were going to close on next week.”

The last piece settled into place.

No solo habían planeado vender mi casa.

Ya habían gastado dinero que aún no existía.

David llevó a Ethan al sofá y se sentó con él.

—Lo siento —me dijo.

“Debería haber hecho más preguntas.”

—Deberías haberlo hecho —dije.

“Pero se lo estás preguntando ahora.”

Amber permanecía sola junto a la isla.

La expresión de calma había desaparecido.

—¿Qué será de nosotros? —preguntó.

“You’re telling the truth,” I said.

“You return all the documents.”

“You cancel the sale.”

“And let Ethan decide where he wants to sleep tonight.”

Ethan looked up from David’s lap.

—Here—he said.

“With the fog.”

Amber nodded once.

She didn’t argue.

Her sister left without saying another word.

By noon, the court officer had arrived and the envelope from the boardwalk was inside a sealed evidence bag.

The forged resignation document was photographed.

The recorder captured the information.

David signed a sworn statement declaring that he had not authorized the transfer.

Amber signed one stating that she had done so.

The buyer’s lawyer called before the waiter left and confirmed that the deposit would be returned once the forged documents were removed.

I accompanied the waiter to the door and watched as the car disappeared down the gravel road.

When I returned, Ethan was asleep on the sofa with the dinosaur under his arm.

David was standing by the window.

“She won’t forgive him,” he said.

“Maybe not,” I replied.

“But she will not be the owner of this house.”

“And no one else will.”

He nodded.

“The cabin is ready,” he said.

“If they want us to go back there tonight.”

—Stay—I said.

“For now.”

“Ethan is already settled.”

“The documents are safe.”

“We can sort the rest out tomorrow.”

He seemed surprised.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure I don’t want another four months of silence,” I said.

“And I’m sure the biometric lock still recognizes my thumb.”

Outside, the fog had dissipated.

The stone terrace gleamed in the light of the setting sun.

I opened the terrace door and stepped on the stones that I had placed myself.

The plastic bag had disappeared from the rocks below.

The seawall contained only salt and cedar, and the panoramic view that he had built to be able to contemplate from the house.

David joined me.

Ethan woke up and a moment later followed him, still carrying the dinosaur.

We stood together on the edge of the precipice as the Pacific crashed against the rocks as it had done for twenty years.

Nobody spoke.

The house behind was quiet and the closet shelf was empty only because she hadn’t put the folder back yet.

I would do it tomorrow.

Tonight, the three of us stayed on the terrace until the first stars appeared and the wind brought the smell of rain and cedar through the open door.