Fifteen years hadn’t been enough.
He needed my absence documented.
Permanent.
Useful.
Clare continued.
“My attorney told me not to sign.”
Dad snapped, “Your attorney doesn’t understand our family.”
“My attorney understands coercion.”
The word moved through the ballroom like electricity.
Gerald looked around.
People who had laughed politely at his jokes an hour earlier were avoiding his eyes.
Business partners.
Neighbors.
Relatives.
Friends.
Everyone who had accepted his version because it was easier.
Richard pushed his chair back.
“This is insane.”
Then Clare looked at him.
“And Richard knew.”
His face froze.
Margaret’s hand went to her throat.
“What?”
Clare held up an email printout.
“Uncle Richard emailed Dad the draft.”
Richard stared at her.
“You went through private correspondence?”
“It was attached to the documents you wanted me to sign.”
Richard looked toward Gerald.
That was his mistake.
Everyone saw it.
A single glance.
Confirmation without words.
