Chapter 8 - A Signature Made While She Slept
Emily had inherited her shares from her grandfather when she turned twenty-one.
Richard had explained to her that the interest was mostly ceremonial.
He said the company needed experienced leadership and that family wealth should remain managed by professionals.
Emily trusted him enough never to press the issue.
Now the records showed that her trust held fifty-one percent of the company's voting power.
A majority.
Enough to replace directors, demand independent audits, and bring hidden transactions into daylight.
The filing submitted that morning claimed Emily had appointed Samuel Keene as her proxy.
The electronic signature was dated while she lay sedated in intensive care.
“That's fraud,” I said.
Ortiz nodded.
“It's also evidence that someone believed the court petition would give them cover.”
An emergency hearing was scheduled to challenge the filing.
The judge ordered the disputed voting rights frozen until their validity could be examined.
That would have been welcome news if Emily hadn't still been unconscious.
At the hospital, a specialist explained the risks of her injuries in careful, unsentimental language.
She had survived surgery, but recovery would be slow.
There could be setbacks.
I wrote down every term he used because I knew grief could swallow information whole.
When he finished, I asked whether she had been in pain during the assault.
He considered me for a moment.
“I can't reconstruct what she felt.”
The answer hurt, but I appreciated that he wouldn't invent comfort.
I sat beside Emily afterward and told her about the trust.
“You've been running the company all along,” I said softly.
“You just didn't know it.”
Her fingers twitched.
A moment later, she opened her eyes.
I pressed the call button.
“Em?”
She looked at me with obvious effort.
“Nathan.”
My throat closed.
“I'm here.”
She studied my face as though checking that I was real.
“The baby?”
I couldn't lie.
I shook my head.
Her eyes filled immediately.
She turned away, and a broken sound escaped her chest.
I stayed close without reaching for words that wouldn't help.
For a while, all we did was cry quietly together.
After the nurse adjusted her medication, Emily asked for water.
She managed two small sips.
Then she whispered, “Did he tell you I fell?”
“Yes.”
A flash of fury moved through her exhaustion.
“He watched.”
“Richard?”
She shook her head.
“Brandon.”
I felt my spine straighten.
“Who else was there?”
She closed her eyes, gathering what she could.
“They came to the warehouse.”
“Who?”
“My brothers.”
I held my breath.
“They said I could sign the papers or lose everything.”
“Which papers?”
She looked at me.
“The trust.”
A nurse warned me not to push her.
I told Emily that investigators had already found the forged proxy.
She made the faintest movement of relief.
Then she caught my wrist.
“Dad didn't order it.”
I stared at her.
“Then who did?”
Her eyes shifted to the doorway.
“Someone who knew what he was afraid of.”
She slipped back toward sleep.
Before her eyes closed, she said one more thing.
“Don't let Margaret get the keys.”
I stood very still.
“What keys?”
Emily could no longer answer.
On the bedside table sat the ring of house keys I had carried home from deployment.
One of them wasn't ours.
A small brass key with a blue enamel dot had been threaded onto my ring.
May you like
And I had no memory of putting it there.
