The notary, Sarah, stepped forward.

She checked Julian’s driver’s license.

She stamped each document with her official seal.

The loud thud of the rubber stamp echoed in the small kitchen.

“It is done,” Lydia said, gathering the papers.

She placed them carefully back into her briefcase.

Julian stood there, looking hollow.

He looked at the empty wooden table.

“Is that it?” he asked.

“We are finished,” I said.

“I want to see Harrison,” Julian said suddenly.

He looked toward the stairs.

“No,” I said, blocking the hallway. “He is sleeping.”

“He is my son,” Julian raised his voice.

“You should have thought about that before you transferred his trust fund into an offshore shell company for Isabel,” I said.

Julian’s face flushed red.

The mention of his mistress seemed to drain the last bit of fight out of him.

“Isabel is gone,” he said quietly.

“She left the country yesterday.”

I did not care.

“Lydia, Martin, thank you,” I said.

Martin Bell nodded to me.

“I am sorry it came to this, Mrs. Blackwood,” Martin said.

“It is Mrs. Carter,” I corrected him.