Proud.
When Emma withdrew, I withdrew farther.
When her attorney requested that all conversations go through counsel, I agreed because direct conversations had become unbearable.
I had never threatened to take a child I did not know existed.
But I had made it easy for someone to convince her that I might.
Emma extended her hand toward Daniel.
“Give me the folder.”
“Those papers contain privileged strategy.”
“They contain my life.”
“Emma—”
“Give it to me.”
Daniel hesitated.
That hesitation did what all my denials had failed to do.
Emma saw it.
She stepped closer, took the folder from beneath his arm, and carried it to the table.
Noah began to fuss.
She bounced him gently while loosening the metal clasp with one hand.
The first page bore the letterhead of Whitaker Holdings.
My name appeared at the bottom beneath a signature that looked nearly perfect.
Nearly.
Emma pushed it toward me.
“Then explain why you signed this.”
I did not touch the paper immediately.
The signature had the long downward stroke I used on formal contracts.
The spacing was right.
Even the slight break in the final line was there.
Then I saw the date.
“This signature was copied.”
Daniel laughed once.
“Of course it was.”
I pointed at the last letter of my surname.
“I tore a tendon in my right hand in January.
For three months, my signature slanted upward because I couldn’t rotate my wrist.
This one is flat.”
Emma stared at the page.
“This letter was dated February,” I continued.
“But the signature came from something I signed before the injury.”
Daniel’s smile disappeared.
“You expect her to believe that?”
“I expect the original file to contain creation data.
I expect the printer to have a history.
I expect the email that delivered it to have routing information.”
“It arrived by courier,” Emma said.
“From whom?”
“Daniel’s office.”
The room became very quiet.
Daniel folded his arms.
“My office received it and forwarded it to our client.
That is standard practice.”
“Then your system will show where it came from,” I said.
“It came from your legal department.”
“Which address?”
He did not answer quickly enough.
Emma looked at him.
“Which address, Daniel?”
“The correspondence is in the file.”
