His private document indexing system.
My smile disappeared.
“Where did you get this?” I asked.
My mother folded her arms.
“From your father’s records.”
“Which records?”
“That is none of your concern.”
One of the attorneys shifted in his chair.
That told me enough.
I looked at him.
Gray suit.
Red tie.
Late fifties.
The only attorney in the room who had not touched the waiver since I arrived.
“What’s your name?”
He hesitated.
“Martin Hale.”
“And who retained you, Mr. Hale?”
“My firm was contacted regarding certain estate matters.”
“By whom?”
Victoria answered for him.
“Me.”
Martin’s eyes flicked toward her.
Interesting.
I stepped closer to the table.
“Then why did you call me Colonel Sterling when I walked in?”
Silence.
My mother’s face tightened.
Martin slowly removed his glasses.
“Because your father did.”
Nobody moved.
Julian looked up from his phone.
Richard straightened.
My mother’s expression changed so quickly most people would have missed it.
I didn’t.
There it was.
Fear.
Small.
Sharp.
Gone in less than a second.
But it had been there.
I pulled out the chair at the far end of the table and finally sat down.
“Now we can talk.”
Victoria snapped, “We have been trying to talk.”
“No. You’ve been trying to get a signature.”
I opened the folder.
The first twelve pages were exactly what the title suggested.
A waiver.
If I signed, I would relinquish my claims to the Boston house, my father’s shares in Sterling Regional Construction, two commercial properties, and several investment accounts.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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