The silence returned to the room, thick and suffocating.

Marjorie walked over to the window, looking out into the gray afternoon.

“You think you have won because you have that ledger,” she said, her back to me.

“It is evidence, Marjorie,” I said. “It proves what Arthur did, and it proves how you covered it up.”

“It proves nothing but old gossip,” she said, turning around slowly.

She walked back to the desk and reached into her black handbag.

She pulled out a thick document, bound in blue paper, and laid it on the desk.

“This is a settlement agreement,” Marjorie said, tapping the paper with her manicured finger.

“I don’t want your money, Marjorie,” I said.

“This is not just money,” she said. “This is a clean, quiet divorce.”

She pushed the paper toward me.

“Graham will sign it today,” she said. “He will waive all rights to your family’s assets.”

She looked down at the ring on my finger.

“You keep the ring. You keep your family’s properties in the valley. And we part ways forever.”

I looked at the document. The blue cover was crisp and uncreased.