He had always been a man who believed he could talk his way out of anything.

Now, he looked completely trapped.

“I need a pen,” Brent said quietly.

“Brent, are you sure?” Mr. Vance asked.

“Just give me the pen,” Brent said, his voice barely a whisper.

Jennifer reached into her blazer and handed him a heavy black pen.

Brent turned to the signature page.

His hand shook slightly as he pressed the pen to the paper.

He signed his name on three separate lines.

Mr. Vance signed as his witness, and then Jennifer took the documents back.

She checked each page carefully before placing them back in her briefcase.

“We are done here,” Jennifer said.

I stood up from my chair.

Brent did not look at me as I walked toward the door.

He sat staring at the empty table, his shoulders slumped.

Once we were out in the hallway, I felt the air return to my lungs.

“It’s over,” I said, leaning against the drywall.

“The assets are yours,” Jennifer said. “The title company will wire the full proceeds from the Redwood Crest sale to your personal account this afternoon.”