Thirty seconds later, Lorraine left her own message.
She was sobbing.
“Please save us.”
I stood on a hotel balcony in Provence, looking over vineyards glowing in the morning light.
Then Priya texted me.
“The judge signed the preservation order. Mark has officially been served.”
That was when I finally called him.
He answered immediately.
“Finally! Fix this.”
I leaned against the balcony railing.
“There’s nothing to fix.”
Silence.
Then Lorraine’s voice suddenly came through the phone.
“You froze our money because your feelings were hurt?”
“No.”
My voice remained
