Vanessa had come to see her on a rainy Friday in August. She’d been wearing surgical scrubs and said she was on her lunch break, and Leigh remembered Vanessa’s sneakers squeaking on the floor as she’d led her back to her office. Leigh had ushered her to the sofa, where she’d sat down and unfolded the four-page lease agreement she had signed for an apartment in North Austin. Vanessa had been visibly shaken as she recounted getting a letter from her landlord threatening to sue her for illegally subletting her apartment.

“He says I’m in breach of contract, but I’m allowed to sublet,” she’d insisted. “It’s right here in black and white.”

Vanessa hadn’t brought the letter, unfortunately. She’d said it was from the law offices of Heinrick & Toole, which Leigh knew to be a boutique firm on the south side. She’d also said the letter wasn’t signed by a specific attorney, which Leigh considered a red flag. Yet another red flag was the correspondence coming digitally versus an actual letter.

Leigh’s advice had been simple: Wait. The email message could be an empty threat. If the suit was legit, Vanessa would receive something further, and at that point Leigh could get involved. Vanessa had asked questions about fees and then ended the meeting, saying that she had to get back to work, but she’d be in touch.

That was the last Leigh had heard from her, or about her, until today.

Leigh pictured Vanessa with her rain-dampened hair, smoothing the lease agreement out on the coffee table.

Did she seem stressed out? Upset? Scared?

Brandon’s questions came back, and Leigh realized now that Vanessa had been all of those things. And she realized there might have been much more going on with her than a litigious landlord.

Leigh thought about how she’d looked that day, with her bloodshot eyes and wan complexion and her nails bitten down to the quick. The woman had been distraught, and Leigh wished now that she had spent more of her time with Vanessa asking questions rather than answering them.

Why had she sublet her apartment in the first place? Leigh had done a little digging this afternoon, and the home address Vanessa had listed on the client agreement was less than a mile away from the apartment she was subletting. And based on the websites, both apartments were one-bedroom units of similar cost.

So, what had prompted her to move? Had she simply wanted a change of address? And if so, why? Moving was a hassle. Period. It wasn’t something people did for no reason, and Leigh had her suspicions.

She caught a blur of movement as a skinny black cat leaped onto the wall separating Leigh’s courtyard from the one next door. Leigh’s neighbor was a software exec who worked even longer hours than Leigh did.