The doorbell buzzed. At the door were the husband’s folks. …

Ethan made a call and spoke briefly. From the conversation, Emily realized he was talking to a locksmith.
“Perks of the job,” he smiled. “I helped this guy avoid jail once. He owes me.”

An hour later, a respectable-looking older man arrived. While they waited, Emily and Ethan talked quietly to avoid disturbing neighbors. In three minutes, the door was open.

Emily and her companions walked in. Jake, caught up in his partying, didn’t notice them at first.
“What the—” he exclaimed.

“Mr. Thompson, you have no right to be in this apartment. It belongs to Emily, and you’re not registered here,” Ethan said firmly.
“I’m in my wife’s apartment,” Jake protested.

His friends, sensing trouble, started slipping out.
“Your wife filed for divorce today and wants you out during the process.”
“You can’t do this!” Jake, now sober, shouted.
“Should I call the police to explain who has what rights?” Ethan offered.

Minutes later, Jake was gone.
“Leo, got a lock for Emily? Something solid,” Ethan asked the locksmith.
“You’re insulting me, Ethan.”

Leo left to get one.
“Coffee?” Emily offered.
“Gladly.”…