At the restaurant, my mother looked at me and said, “Sit somewhere else. This table is for real family—not adopted daughters.” Everyone laughed before pushing the $3,418 check toward me. I quietly smiled and paid it in full. But just as I stood to leave, someone behind me said, “Please wait a moment.”

Grant stared at the floor.

My father sank slowly into his chair.

Then Judge Clarke unfolded the second page.

It was not a letter.

It was a copy of a report prepared by Hartwell Holdings’ outside accountants. I had received it that afternoon, and Victoria had advised me not to sign the final notices until she could verify the details.

The report showed that Grant’s company had not merely missed targets.

It had used the guaranteed credit line to pay personal expenses, including his boat lease, gambling losses, and deposits for a vacation home he had never told anyone about.

Grant’s face turned hard. “That’s not accurate.”

Victoria opened another folder. “The transactions are documented.”

My mother turned toward him. “Grant?”

He did not answer.

“You told us the company was struggling because of supply costs,” my father said.

“It was temporary,” Grant snapped. “I was going to replace the money.”