She swallows. “They want notice of transfer within two hours. Otherwise they’ll keep entertaining offers.”
I nod once. That tells her everything she needs to know.
“That’s fine,” I say. “Send it.”
Her shoulders sag with relief. She scrambles for her phone.
I turn back inside.
Christianna is standing in the sun porch, light spilling over her hair, her hands clasped nervously. Erik is nearby, quietly counting steps, murmuring something about sound reflection. Meg is vibrating with barely contained joy.
I clear my throat.
She looks at me, guarded but hopeful.
“You can have it,” I say. “Four point five. Keys. We need confirmation in the next two hours.”
Her breath leaves her in a rush. She presses a hand to her mouth, eyes shining.
“That fast?”
“Yes,” I answer. “They want certainty. You’re offering it.”
She nods once. Then again. “Okay. Okay. Let’s do it. I’ll call my accountant.”
“You are going to have to digitally sign your life away,” Meg advises, already pulling up her phone. “It’s a lot.”
“There is a notary en route,” I say calmly. “This will be physical signing.”
Erik holds out his hand for the keys. “I’m taking the dogs to the park.”
I nod and pass them over. The Drops need a break from the cab. We left it running with the air conditioner on for them.
“I guess we can sign at the island,” Christianna murmurs. “There’s no furniture.”
Meg is already dialing. “I can have movers at your place today. They could have your big items here by tonight.”
“Oh.” Christianna blinks. “I rented it furnished. I just have my clothes and my violin. I’m still at the hotel.”
Meg freezes.
I exhale a quiet laugh.
Erik pauses at the door, keys in hand. “That simplifies things.”
Meg is already scrolling, turning her phone toward Christianna. “Beds. Local furniture store.”
I can tell by Christianna’s expression that none of them are landing.
“They don’t match,” she says quietly.
I pull up a different site. A friend of mine in Texas has a place that carries furniture with weight. Pieces that fit a house like this. Pieces that would fit her.
I hand her my phone.
Her face lights immediately. “Oh. This one.” She points. Tufted leather against gray-washed wood. Ornate without being loud.
Erik reroutes to look over my shoulder. “Can you get it in a queen?”
