Chapter 1 - THE SIGNATURE I NEVER GAVE
Richard’s hand closed around my shoulder as I tried to lead Leo past him.
I felt every finger through my rolled sleeve.
“Take your hand off me.”
My father’s drink remained steady in his other hand. Behind him, laughter faded into the brittle silence of people who had enjoyed the cruelty until they realized I might respond.
“Do not make a scene,” Richard said.
I looked down at the marble floor.
The castle tower Leo and I had spent six Saturdays building lay in pieces beneath Evan’s leather shoes. One wall had split along a dovetail joint Leo had cut himself. The dragon’s carved head rested in my palm, its walnut horns snapped away.
Leo clung to my wrist.
“Daddy, can we go?”
“Yes.”
Evan stepped closer, his drink hanging loosely from two fingers.
“You came to Dad’s retirement party carrying a child’s craft project like it belonged in a museum.”
“It was Leo’s gift.”
“To a man who built an actual company.”
Leo’s grip tightened.
The Bennett Timberworks anniversary banner hung above the ballroom doors. Forty years of Richard’s company were represented in framed photographs, scale models, and polished samples. Leo had built a miniature version of the first mill because Richard once told him that was where the family began.
Richard had praised it when we arrived.
Evan destroyed it three hours later.
That contradiction cut through my anger.
I picked up the leather document case from the chair beside us. Evan’s eyes shifted toward it.
There it was again—the flash of worry I had seen when I turned for the door.
“Give me the case,” he said.
“It belongs to me.”
“It contains board papers.”
“It contains papers you insisted I sign tonight.”
Margaret’s dismissive smile vanished.
“We can discuss business after Leo calms down.”
“My son is not the problem.”
“He is crying over wood,” she said.
“He is crying because his uncle humiliated him while his grandparents laughed.”
Richard’s jaw hardened. “Enough.”
I stepped around him.
He moved again, blocking me.
For one second, Leo and I stood trapped between my father and the relatives gathered around the broken castle.
The room smelled of whiskey, floor wax, and the citrus perfume Margaret wore to every formal dinner. Someone set down a glass. Ice clicked against crystal.
I shifted Leo behind me.
“Move.”
Richard studied my face, then the case in my hand.
“What are you planning to do?”
“I’m taking my son home.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Evan reached for the case.
I pulled it away.
“You had your chance to speak to me like family.”
Evan’s voice dropped. “The bank needs those signatures by Monday.”
“That sounds like your problem.”
His fingers curled.
Richard finally stepped aside.
I led Leo through the ballroom doors, across the front hall, and into the cold. We had nearly reached my car when Leo stopped.
“My backpack.”
“We’ll replace it.”
“The dragon wings are inside.”
I looked back at the house.
Evan stood behind an upstairs window, watching us.
“I’ll get it tomorrow.”
“No.” Leo wiped his face with his sweater sleeve. “Uncle Evan already looked in it.”
I crouched.
“What do you mean?”
“He took your blue paper out.”
My leather case snapped open beneath my hands.
The board packet was still inside, along with the unsigned voting proxy Evan had placed before me at dinner.
But the confidential letter from First Lake Bank was gone.
The letter asked me to contact the bank before authorizing any new debt in Bennett Timberworks’ name.
My phone vibrated.
An email from the company secretary appeared.
Thank you for executing the voting proxy this evening. Your authorization has been recorded.
Attached beneath the message was a signed copy.
My name appeared at the bottom.
May you like
The signature looked perfect.
I had never written it.
