The dull thud of a heavy door closing answered. The clicking of metal gears responded to it, a conversation between machines. Similar sounds had emanated from the dining room the prior day. They hadn’t come from the restaurant’s front entrance, Tonya realized. That was secured by an electronic dead bolt that slammed into place.

The only other door in the dining room was Coffre’s closed vault. But there was no reason for anyone to open it. The short-lived restaurant had been gutted months ago. Would Philip go inside simply for nostalgia’s sake?

Footsteps followed the noises. Tonya sidled up to the butcher block with the house knives. She didn’t plan on needing them. But blocking access to sharp objects was never a bad idea when confronting someone with an unpleasant proposition.

Philip strode into the room. His uncovered face was flushed as if he’d done something that required some amount of physical exertion. Tonya pulled down her own mask.

He frowned as he saw her face. “Tonya.” The name sounded like an epithet followed by a “you.”

“Hi. I know I’m early. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

Philip resumed his advance into the kitchen. “I have to prep for dinner service.”

Tonya wanted to quip that Philip had people for that. Chefs who earned far less than he did made sure that all the ingredients for the following night’s meals were chopped and stored in airtight Tupperware before the major cooking even began. But she stopped herself from disagreeing. He was trying to avoid speaking to her, probably because he’d known of Imani’s theories before she’d voiced them. Picking a fight over a silly excuse would only push him to further side with his wife.

“Imani spoke with me a few hours ago regarding her concerns about me and Layla temporarily living with you all. She seems to be under the impression that Nate and I had an affair and that letting me stay there would be a betrayal of her friendship with Melissa.”

Philip stopped mere feet from her, too close for comfort during a pandemic. She interpreted the proximity as a signal to continue.

“As I told Imani, I didn’t have a relationship with Nate.” She sighed. “I know you two are friends, and I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but because there’s clearly some misinformation going around, I feel the need to tell you what happened.”

Philip’s blue eyes zeroed in on her face, lasers trying to read the information off of a disc. The direct stare wasn’t simply giving her permission to continue, Tonya realized. It was challenging her to prove that she didn’t deserve forcible removal from his home.