Jared sat across from us, wearing an orange jumpsuit and heavy handcuffs.

Two state guards stood by the door, their arms crossed.

“The state has agreed to a plea deal on the embezzlement charges,” Arthur said to Jared’s attorney. “But only if you sign the dissolution agreement today.”

Jared looked at me, his eyes dark with anger and exhaustion.

“You took everything,” he said, his voice raw.

“I took back what you stole from me,” I said.

“I built that company,” he spat, leaning forward until the chains on his wrists rattled against the table.

“You built it on lies, Jared,” I said. “And you used my family’s money to do it.”

His attorney leaned over and whispered in his ear, pointing to the signature line.

“If you do not sign, the DA will add the vehicular assault charge regarding Shelby’s accident,” his attorney muttered. “You will serve twenty years instead of eight.”

Jared’s hand shook as he took the pen from his lawyer.

He looked at the document, his jaw clenching.

He signed his name on the line, the ink scratching loudly in the quiet room.