They arrived exactly at seven. Kevin came through the door vibrating with nervous energy. The woman beside him moved differently—smooth, controlled, her heels clicking against my tile entryway with purpose.

“Dad, this is Jessica.”

She was striking. Dark hair in a sleek ponytail, a designer dress that probably cost more than my monthly utility bill. Her handshake was firm, almost aggressive, and her smile stayed fixed on her mouth without ever reaching her eyes. “Charles. Kevin talks about you constantly.” Her gaze swept past me, cataloging the living room, the furniture, the art on the walls. “What a lovely home.”