“They will think you’ve lost your mind,” she whispered.

The rain outside began to patter against the double-paned windows, a soft, relentless sound.

My father remained completely still, his hands flat on the desk.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“My father is ruined because of you,” Claire said, her voice cracking slightly. “His accounts are frozen. The bank is calling about the house. You did this.”

“Martin did this to himself,” my father said.

“He did nothing wrong!” she screamed, her composure finally breaking.

She slammed her hand onto the blue folder.

“Sign the papers, Daniel! Sign them and give me my share!”

My father looked down at the documents, then up at his wife.

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the hum of the ventilation system.

“I’m not signing anything, Claire,” my father said.

Claire stared at him, her eyes wild with frustration.

“You think you can just walk away from us?” she said. “You think you can keep everything?”

“I built this company with my own hands,” my father said. “You and Martin tried to tear it down from the inside.”