Chapter 13: The Signing

The trust lawyer's conference room was on the nineteenth floor of a glass tower downtown.

Sam gave the receptionist his last name, and she waved us down the hall without picking up the phone.

I had the black phone in my coat pocket and my hand around it.

Through the glass wall I saw all of them.

Kyle sat at the far end in a charcoal suit with a pen in his hand.

Bree sat beside him in a cream sweater, one palm flat on her stomach.

Preston stood at the window with a coffee, laughing at something the lawyer had said.

The lawyer was a thin woman with a leather folder, and a stack of pages in front of her had yellow flags on every signature line.

I opened the door.

Kyle's pen stopped.

"Willa," he said, calm as ever. "You can't be in here. This is a private legal matter."

"I know. I came to stop it."

Preston turned from the window and gave me his wide, friendly smile.

"Will. Sit down, have a coffee. You look exhausted."

"I'm fine, Preston."

Sam shut the door behind us and leaned his back against it.

I walked past Kyle and stopped in front of the lawyer.

"Does this trust say Kyle Rutledge is the father of Bree Lambert's child?"

"Paragraph two recites paternity," the lawyer said. "It's standard for a trust like this."

"Then you should hear something before you witness it. Kyle cannot father a child."

Nobody in the room moved.

"I have nine laboratory results with his name and birth date on them. His doctor will say so under oath."

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