He worked fast. Front door, back door, garage entry, side gate. New deadbolts. New keys. New garage code. New keypad programming. While he worked outside, I reset the Wi-Fi network and changed the password to something Ethan would never guess because it had nothing to do with anniversaries, sports teams, or the names of old dogs. I logged out of every device connected to the house security system and revoked his phone’s access. I updated the alarm passcode. I changed the recovery email on anything that mattered.
By five a.m., the house was sealed.
Ethan Jensen, newly married in Vegas to his coworker Rebecca, was a stranger to every door he once opened in this place.
The locksmith packed up his tools and handed me two copies of the new keys. “You want a third made?”
“No,” I said.
He nodded like he understood the answer carried more than a number.