“Without my investment, your technology company might not survive the week,” she said.

The sharpness in her tone was thin, but it was there.

“Is Dad with you?” I asked.

“Your father is reading in the study,” she said quickly. “He agrees that this is the best path forward for everyone.”

I pictured my father sitting in his leather chair, staring at a book he wasn’t reading, refusing to look up to avoid the conflict.

He had spent thirty years letting her steer every aspect of our lives.

“Let me talk to him,” I said.

“There is no need to disturb him,” she replied. “He has already given his consent to the transfer.”

“He didn’t sign this, Mom. Your name is the only one on the escrow document.”

“Because it is my family’s trust,” she said. “Now, are we going to be reasonable, or are you going to let your pride ruin your hard work?”

I pulled the laptop from my bag and set it on the flat stone of the campus boundary wall.

I booted up the screen, my fingers cold against the aluminum chassis.