The line went dead with a soft, hollow click.

Richard turned his gaze back to Vale, his eyes cold and demanding.

“You have about five minutes before she loses her patience,” Richard said.

I stepped closer to the desk, leaning down so I was eye-to-eye with the man who had helped steal my children’s future.

“This is your only way out,” I said, my voice shaking but firm.

“If you do not sign that agreement and give us the original trust, we will hand you over to the federal prosecutors.”

Nora slid the printed document across the polished wood.

A heavy silver pen slid along with it, stopping right in front of Vale’s trembling fingers.

“The original trust,” Nora said.

“Where is it?”

Vale looked from the pen to the door, as if expecting Margaret to burst through the solid wood at any second.

“It’s in my office safe,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

“The real one. The one my father drew up before he died.”

“The one that names Emily as the sole executor and trustee for the girls?” Nora asked.

Vale nodded slowly.