Chapter 7 - A Signature That Never Moved
I forwarded the entire email chain to Rachel without changing anything.
Then I sat on the nursery floor until the sun came up.
The crib was still in its box.
Adrian had promised to assemble it after his next deal closed.
There was always another deal.
Another dinner.
Another reason I should understand.
Dad found me there at seven.
He had slept in the guest room because I had asked him to stay.
“Can I sit?”
I nodded.
He lowered himself carefully beside a bag of wooden parts.
“I kept waiting for you to miss me enough to call,” I said.
“I did miss you.”
“You made me choose.”
“I thought being right about him mattered more than being there for you.”
I looked at the unfinished crib.
“You were right about some things. You still hurt me.”
“I know.”
He didn’t defend himself.
That was the first apology I could believe.
Later that morning, Rachel’s document examiner compared the roof approval with the lender’s consent.
The signature, including the stray ink dot, matched precisely in shape.
Digital artifacts suggested it had been lifted from the repair page and placed onto the consent.
It was strong evidence of copying.
It did not yet prove who had done the copying.
The lender agreed to suspend enforcement while its own counsel reviewed the dispute.
For the first time in days, I breathed without feeling a fist behind my ribs.
Then Nina called.
“He fired me.”
I stood so fast the room tilted.
“What did he say?”
“That I violated confidentiality. Security walked me out.”
“Where are you?”
“In my car.”
Her voice broke.
“I couldn’t even get the picture of my mom off my desk.”
I wanted to promise I could fix everything.
Instead, I asked her to come over and called Rachel about getting her separate employment advice.
Nina arrived with red eyes and a final warning email from Adrian.
He had copied half the company.
At the bottom was something he had probably meant as a threat.
All unauthorized communications, including those concerning Bellwether’s closing payout, will be investigated.
Rachel read that sentence slowly.
“What closing payout?”
Nina wiped her face.
May you like
“He’s selling the main development project on Friday.”
Friday was two days away.
