He looked at the torn paper, then up at his son.

His eyes were narrow and dark.

“Daniel, you idiot,” Richard whispered.

Daniel turned to him, his smile faltering.

“Dad, I saved us,” Daniel said, his voice rising in pitch.

“The agreement was the only thing binding my personal assets to her family’s estate.”

“Without it, she’s just another unsecured creditor.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket and unlocked the screen.

The bright blue light illuminated my palms in the dim office.

The message from my attorney, Arthur Vance, was brief.

*Submission accepted and timestamped by the county clerk. Official record active.*

I locked the phone and slid it back into my pocket.

“The paper you just destroyed was the original,” I said.

My voice sounded steady, almost hollow, in the quiet room.

Daniel wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Yes, it was,” he said, trying to sound confident.

“And now it is trash.”

“I took that document to the county courthouse yesterday morning, Daniel.”

The rain rattled against the windowpane, a steady, relentless drumming.

Daniel froze.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.