“Had an open house on the next block.” She flashed a sudden maniacal smile—which ruined the serene image in my head—like someone who desperately needed to sell some bad news. “I was about to call you.”

I let her in. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing! A minor slowdown. Maybe even an opportunity,” she twittered as we walked to the makeshift living room, but the way she collapsed into the nearest armchair belied her chirpy attitude.

“The buyer just called.” She cast me a please-don’t-fly-off-the handle look.

“And?” I asked as calmly as possible. Judging by her state, she must have had some difficult clients in the past.

“He’s pulling out.”

Hi, calm. Bye, calm. I dropped into the chair next to hers. “Can he do that? Why?”

“I think he’s a speculator. I’m sorry. Talking with his agent just now gave me the impression that the buyer was going for a quick flip. He had a buyer of his own lined up, from overseas. Your buyer was going to take possession of the property, then immediately sell at a premium.”

“Why?”

“There could be a number of reasons. From money laundering to the secondary buyer wanting to remain anonymous.”

“And then the secondary buyer changed his mind, so my buyer pulled out too?”

“He might not have a choice. Might only have a short-term loan. A few months? Then he would have received his money and paid everything off.”

“I don’t know much about real estate speculation. Does this happen often?”

“Not often, but it’s not unheard of either. Especially in New York.”

The buyer withdrew the offer. No sale. No money.

I thought of the stack of stroke center bills on the corner of my desk upstairs and felt a sharp pain in my middle.

“We will, of course, immediately relist.” Beatriz struggled to sound reassuring. “If you still wish to sell.”

“I do.”

She apologized again, then again and again, before she left.

I didn’t want to deal with Bram, but called him anyway—all business, strictly professional. I told him about the buyer for the house stepping back. “Is there anything I need to do before I relist?”

“Violet’s assets will have to go through probate. You have to officially inherit the house and have it transferred into your name. It could take a couple of months.”

I dropped my head into my hand. “The stroke center already sent me the bill.”

“I could negotiate on your behalf. They might agree to small monthly payments until the house sells. They had a similar arrangement with your grandmother.”

“I’ll do that. But thank you for the suggestion.”

“You know I’d be happy to help any way I can. With this, or anything else.”

He kept telling me that. But what I wanted from him was to be the man I’d thought he was. At least we could have been friends. I missed Diya and Trey.