He flipped to the second page.
Evelyn leaned toward him.
“What does it say?”
“Nothing important.”
I almost admired the instinct.
Even with a court order in his hands, he wanted to control the room before the room understood what had happened.
Ms.
Hargrove pulled another document from the folder.
“There is also a notice concerning preservation of financial records and specified property.”
Sloane’s fingers tightened around the necklace.
Graham saw it.
“Don’t,” he said sharply.
She froze.
That single word changed the atmosphere more than anything Ms.
Hargrove had read.
Audrey looked up.
Ben did too.
Sloane slowly removed her hand from the sapphire.
I said, “You can leave it on for now.”
Her face flushed.
Evelyn turned toward me.
“What exactly are you accusing her of?”
“Nothing.”
“You dragged some process server into my home during a family dinner.”
“I didn’t drag anyone anywhere.”
“You planned this.”
“Yes.”
The direct answer silenced her.
I had spent years softening sentences for Evelyn.
Years explaining my decisions so she would not feel challenged.
That night, I discovered how little energy the truth required when I stopped decorating it.
Graham pushed the packet onto the table.
“This is theater.”
“No,” I said.
“The toast was theater.”
Audrey looked down quickly, hiding the beginning of a smile.
Graham noticed.
His face hardened.
He turned to Ms.
Hargrove.
“You’ve delivered whatever you came to deliver.
You can leave.”
“There’s one more acknowledgment.”
She placed a receipt on the table for him to sign.
He refused.
She calmly noted the refusal, returned the paper to the folder, and closed it.
“I’ll record service as completed.”
Then she looked at me.
“Your counsel has copies of everything.”
“Thank you.”
She left through the same doorway.
Her heels crossed the foyer, the front door opened, and then closed.
No one moved.
The dinner was over, but nobody had admitted it yet.
Graham looked at me.
“What did you tell your lawyer?”
