Troy drove back to his neighborhood in Dunwoody. He made a quick circuit past his house, saw nothing concerning—not from the exterior anyway—and circled around to the community clubhouse.

The clubhouse and surrounding grounds had been decorated for the holiday season. Every year, their HOA hosted a sumptuous Christmas party that Troy usually looked forward to, but in his present state of mind, he was so far removed from such things that he could summon no interest whatsoever in celebrations of any kind.

He checked his watch. It was one o’clock in the afternoon.

Right on time, Sullivan pulled into the parking lot. He swung his black Ford F-150 into the spot next to Troy’s sedan and hopped out.

“Armed and ready, Doc?” Sullivan asked.

Troy had hired Sullivan for yet another task: back-up. The detective wore a holstered handgun on his hip. On the surface, it seemed excessive, two grown, armed men teaming up to kick a woman out of a house, but Troy couldn’t ignore the butterflies of anxiety fluttering in his gut.

Neither of them had any clue how Grace would fight back. They didn’t even understand what she was, the extent of her capabilities. She was strong, perhaps inhumanly so, but there might be more she could do to defend herself, and that possibility frightened him.

“I’m ready,” he said. “I have to do what’s best for Monica, for all of us.”

“You show her the evidence about her mother, I’m sure she’ll come around.”

“And her father, too,” Troy said.

Sullivan nodded. Troy had shared with him the revelation about McBride’s paternity. He was eager to disclose the news to Monica, but he was looking for McBride to fulfill that task, as it was his right and responsibility as a father. Once he got Grace out of their lives and Monica learned the truth, he prayed she would be willing to see things his way.

But first, they had to deal with Grace.

Troy got back in his car. Sullivan followed him in his vehicle. Troy parked in front of the house instead of pulling into the driveway next to Grace’s rented Chevy, and Sullivan nosed his truck right behind him along the street.

Troy used his remote control to open the garage door. Monica’s X5 was parked in its usual spot.

Together, he and Sullivan stood at the mouth of the driveway.

“Well, she’s still here.” Sullivan nodded toward Grace’s sedan.

“Yeah, she’s been driving my wife’s car,” Troy said. “She’s taken over everything, like I said.”

“How do you want to play this?” Sullivan hitched up his belt, fingers twitching.

“Go in there and tell her that her stay in this house is over. She can pack her shit and get out.”

“Think it’ll work out like that, nice and easy?”

“Not at all.”