“Are you okay?” he asked, looking over at me.

“I am,” I said, rubbing my cold hands together. “Where are we going?”

“The county courthouse,” my father said. “John’s office is on the third floor.”

He turned the key in the ignition.

The engine roared to life, vibrating through the metal floorboards.

He drove out of the parking lot and turned onto the main road toward downtown Columbus.

The windshield wipers clicked back and forth, clearing the gray sheets of water.

Neither of us spoke for several minutes.

I watched the brick buildings of the city slide past the window.

I knew what was at stake.

If we failed today, Claire and her father would destroy everything my father had worked for.

They would leave us with nothing, just as they had planned.

My father gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the black plastic.

“Your mother thinks she can hide behind her father’s lawyers,” he said.

“Can she?” I asked.

“Not against the state,” my father said. “Not when the evidence is this clear.”

“How did you get the digital signatures?” I asked.