She looked at me, her eyes dark with a cold, silent anger.

“You think you’ve won, Nora,” she whispered. “But you have destroyed everything my family built.”

“Your family destroyed itself,” I replied. “I am just collecting the collateral.”

The deputy at the door cleared his throat, his heavy boots shifting on the stone.

“Ma’am, we need you to sign the acknowledgment of service,” the deputy said to Margaret.

She did not move for several seconds, staring at the blue ink on the document.

Then, with a stiff, mechanical motion, she took the pen from Lena’s hand.

Her signature was jagged, cutting through the white paper.

She dropped the pen on the table and turned her back on us, walking slowly up the stairs without another word.

Her footsteps faded as she reached the second-floor landing.

“That’s done,” Lena said, taking the signed paper back.

“But the real fight is just beginning.”

The next week, the legal battle shifted back to the corporate offices in Manhattan.

Grant’s formal deposition was scheduled for Thursday morning.