“I did,” I lied. “We need to settle this. I cannot handle the pressure of the drivers and the legal threats.”

A long pause stretched over the line.

“I told your father you would see reason,” she said, her voice instantly returning to that familiar, patronizing tone.

“I want to meet tomorrow evening,” I said. “But not here. Not with the lawyers.”

“Where?” she asked.

“Elliot’s cabin in the mountains,” I said. “Just the three of us. We can sign the preliminary agreement there, away from the office.”

“Your father will want his attorney to review it first,” she said.

“If your attorney is involved, I will fight you in court for the next ten years,” I said. “We do this privately, or we don’t do it at all.”

I heard her breathing on the other end of the line, calculating the risks.

“Fine,” she said. “We will be there at six o’clock.”

“Bring your coats,” I said, and ended the call.

I looked at Malcolm, who was watching me with a somber expression.

“You are playing a very difficult game, Avery,” he said.