They flew back on the Sunday. The building concierge, who had known my aunt for twenty years, told me afterward that Dorian used his fob four times before understanding. The new owner’s security met him in the lobby. Sienna sat on her suitcase near the fountain for forty minutes while he made telephone calls, and then a taxi came and took them somewhere else. He never got past the desk. I was told he kept repeating the floor number, as though the number were the argument.

The divorce took nine months and cost him more than it cost me, because the attempted liens came into evidence and changed how a judge looked at everything else he said. Sienna left him before the first hearing. He still develops, on a smaller scale, in a smaller market. I live in Portugal now and I run my aunt’s foundation, which she left in a mess and which I have spent three years repairing properly. I spent seven years being furniture in my own home, waiting to be looked at. It turns out I had been standing on the deed the entire time, and the only thing that ever needed to change was that I finally read it out loud.