Chapter 12 - My Mother's Voice
I arrived at Maya's office shortly after nine.
My father was still there.
He stood by the window, holding a paper cup of coffee.
When he saw me, he straightened.
"Emma."
I didn't answer immediately.
I hadn't expected him to look so old beneath the harsh office lights.
The father in my memories had been strong, impatient, and full of plans.
This man looked as though he'd spent most of his life apologizing to empty rooms.
"Did you give Maya your statement?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Good."
I turned toward the conference table.
Maya placed a copy of Nathan's new evidence in front of me.
The letter was dated eighteen months before my mother's death.
It described her declining health and concern about Vale Atelier's future.
Near the bottom was a sentence that made my heart sink.
I trust Nathan to make the difficult business decisions Emma may not yet be prepared to make.
The signature looked like my mother's.
I read the page again.
It sounded almost believable.
Louise had liked Nathan when we first married.
She had praised his confidence and encouraged him to help expand the workshop.
But there was something wrong with the letter.
"Where did he get this?"
"Nathan says Louise gave it to him."
"Did he submit the original?"
"Only a scan."
I looked at Martin.
He was staring at the page.
"What?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"Louise never wrote like that."
"Like what?"
He pointed to a phrase.
Strategic optimization of legacy operations.
"Your mother would've said, 'Stop wasting money and fix the problem.'"
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
He was right.
My mother's letters were practical, direct, sometimes impatient.
She didn't write in corporate slogans.
Then I noticed another detail.
The letter referred to a product collection introduced several months after its supposed date.
I pointed it out to Maya.
She examined the document.
"That's significant. We'll verify the launch records."
Martin looked at me.
"There's something I need to say before tomorrow."
I remained standing.
He set down his coffee.
"I heard about Nathan hurting you."
I looked away.
"I'm sorry."
"You didn't do it."
"No. But I should've been there when you needed a father."
A bitter answer rose in my throat.
I swallowed it.
Not because he deserved comfort.
Because I didn't want to spend another hour arguing about a past neither of us could change.
"You can help now," I said.
"Tell the truth, even the parts that make you look bad."
"I will."
"Don't leave when it gets uncomfortable."
He nodded.
"I won't."
The next morning, the courthouse was crowded.
Nathan sat across the aisle with two attorneys.
Celeste sat behind him.
He looked at my bruised face and quickly looked away.
During the emergency hearing, Maya presented the Portland records, the disputed notary entry, and the documents Nathan had failed to provide in full.
Nathan's attorney argued that I had authorized the arrangement and was now trying to disrupt a legitimate business sale because my marriage had collapsed.
The judge asked whether Nathan could produce evidence of my personal appearance before the notary.
His attorney referred again to the journal.
Maya submitted the travel records.
Then the judge asked about the alleged letter from my mother.
Maya showed the product launch documents establishing that the letter referenced events that hadn't occurred when it was supposedly written.
Nathan's attorney requested time to verify its provenance.
The judge didn't declare anyone guilty of forgery.
She didn't decide who would ultimately control Vale Atelier.
But she found serious questions about the proxy's authenticity and a risk of irreparable harm if the sale proceeded.
She temporarily prohibited reliance on the disputed proxy and restrained the proposed sale pending further proceedings.
For the first time all week, I could breathe.
Outside the courtroom, Nathan approached me.
"Congratulations," he said bitterly.
"You just delayed the inevitable."
I kept walking.
He lowered his voice.
"Did Maya tell you about the repayment demand?"
I stopped.
Nathan smiled.
"Arden wants its money back."
"We know about the advance."
"Then you know the company can't afford to lose the deal."
He leaned closer.
"Your mother spent thirty years building that place, Emma."
May you like
His expression turned cold.
"And you're going to bankrupt it in a single birthday."
