“GRANT SAID THIS OPENS DADDY’S MONEY.”

I crouched in front of her.

“Maisie, sweetheart, tell me exactly what happened.”

“I lost Cloud.”

“I know.”

“I looked upstairs.”

“Which room?”

“The one with the number four.”

“Four B?”

She nodded.

“The door was open.”

“Were Grant and Uncle Caleb inside?”

“Yes.”

“What were they doing?”

“Talking.”

“About what?”

Her forehead wrinkled.

“Paper.”

“What paper?”

“I don’t know.”

I forced myself not to lead her.

“What did you hear?”

“Uncle Caleb said you sign today.”

My throat tightened.

“Then?”

“Grant said tomorrow he gets rights.”

“Rights to what?”

She shrugged.

“Daddy’s company.”

I nearly stopped breathing.

Daniel’s trust included an indirect minority interest in the company that had acquired his software business.

It was valuable.

Very valuable.

Maisie continued:

“Then Uncle Caleb said they could borrow against it.”

There was no way a six-year-old had invented that phrase.

My hands started shaking.

“Did they see you?”

“No.”

“I was under the table.”

“Why?”

“Cloud was under there.”

Of course.

The entire conspiracy might have been uncovered because a stuffed cat had fallen beneath conference furniture.

I DIDN’T CONFRONT GRANT

That surprised even me.

Old Nora would have.

Widowed Nora had learned something else.

When you suspect someone is lying, anger tells them what you know.

Calmness makes them keep talking.

I kissed Maisie’s forehead.

“You did nothing wrong.”

“Are you mad?”

“Not at you.”

I called my mother over.

“Can Maisie stay with you for twenty minutes?”

She immediately sensed something.

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain later.”

Then I walked toward the signing room.

Grant stood beside the marriage certificate.

Caleb was with him.

When he saw me, Grant smiled.

“There she is.”

I smiled back.

“Sorry.”

“No problem.”

The officiant placed the license in front of me.

Grant had already signed.

Pen beside my hand.

One signature.

That was all.

I picked up the pen.

Then deliberately dropped it.

“Oh.”

I bent down.

While reaching beneath the table, I slipped the black key card from my sleeve and pressed it against my palm.

Then stood.

“Bathroom.”

Grant laughed.

“Now?”

“Nerves.”

Caleb looked irritated.

That mattered.

“Two minutes,” I said.

Then I walked away with the unsigned marriage license still on the table.