Chapter 12 · Keep Tan

"Who's in your mother's apartment, Eli?"

Nico's voice had gone flat, the kind of flat that meant he already knew the answer was bad. His phone kept buzzing against the counter, screen lighting up over and over, and he didn't touch it. He was watching my face instead, watching me stare at the photo like it might rearrange itself into something less true.

"I don't know," I said. "The door's just open. The hallway light's on. Nobody's supposed to be there."

"Who has a key."

"Me. That's it. Me and — " I stopped.

"And?"

"And whoever your father gave one to when he decided my mother's apartment was asset twenty-five."

Nico's jaw worked. His phone buzzed again, harder this time, three calls stacked on top of each other, and he finally flipped it over and looked. Whatever was on the screen made something close behind his eyes.

"That's Marcus," he said. "My uncle's lawyer."

"Calling you at midnight."

"Calling me at midnight means somebody already told him about the twenty-fifth property. Which means somebody in my father's office talks too much, or somebody's been watching us since the courthouse.