The power returned sometime before dawn, but the tension from the storm night stayed behind like a second atmosphere in the house.

I came downstairs the next morning to find Richard already on the phone in the study, speaking in the low, decisive tone he used for business. When he saw me he ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket.

“I’m having a few friends over this evening,” he said. “Old colleagues. They’ll stay for dinner and drinks. I thought you should know.”

Something in the way he watched me made the information feel heavier than it should have. “Of course. It’s your house.”

“Our house while...