Chapter 3
I had known Patricia Brooks for seven years.
In all that time, she had never once asked whether I was happy.
She asked whether I had enough money to support Naomi.
She asked whether I planned to get a better job.
She asked when I intended to stop smelling like engine oil.
But she had never asked about me.
Now she was standing in a parking lot, claiming her daughter owned my invention.
I looked at her carefully.
"Mrs. Brooks, what are you talking about?"
She folded her arms.
"Naomi helped you with that project."
"No, ma'am."
Her expression hardened.
"Don't lie to me."
I glanced toward Naomi.
She wouldn't meet my eyes.
Something cold moved through my chest.
"Naomi," I said, "did you tell your mother you worked on my design?"
She shifted nervously.
"I told her we supported each other."
Patricia stepped forward.
"You lived under the same roof. You benefited from Naomi's education. Naturally, she deserves a share."
I almost laughed.
Benefited?
I had worked sixty-hour weeks to keep our apartment.
I paid the utility bills.
I paid for groceries.
I covered insurance.
And whenever Naomi needed another research expense, somehow I found the money.
I had lived on instant noodles while she ordered expensive meals with classmates.
What exactly had I benefited from?
Xavier interrupted.
"Look, man, nobody's trying to start trouble."
I turned toward him.
"Then why are you here?"
He smiled.
"Just trying to help everybody reach a fair arrangement."
"A fair arrangement?"
He shrugged.
"Naomi is a doctor now. Her expertise could be valuable in commercializing the technology."
I stared at him.
He had known about my invention for less than an hour.
Yet he was already discussing commercialization.
"Who are you, Xavier?"
He straightened his jacket.
"Xavier Coleman."
"I know your name."
I took a step closer.
"What do you do?"
He hesitated.
"I'm involved in private investment."
"Investment in what?"
Naomi quickly intervened.
"Cedric, stop interrogating him."
I looked at her.
"Why are you protecting him?"
"Because he's my boyfriend."
There it was.
Not a misunderstanding.
Not a complicated friendship.
Her boyfriend.
The man she had chosen while I was still paying her bills.
I slowly nodded.
"How long?"
She blinked.
"What?"
"How long have you been with him?"
Her lips parted.
Nothing came out.
Xavier answered instead.
"About eight months."
Eight months.
I felt something inside me collapse.
Eight months ago, Naomi had cried in my arms because she was afraid she wouldn't finish her dissertation.
I had taken another job repairing delivery trucks at night.
Eight months ago, I sold the final piece of equipment from my father's garage.
Eight months ago, I told her we would make it through together.
And all that time, she had been seeing another man.
I looked at her.
"Did you sleep in our bed after seeing him?"
"Cedric!"
"Answer me."
Her eyes filled with angry tears.
"You're being cruel."
I stared at her.
Cruel.
That word no longer meant anything coming from her.
Patricia grabbed my arm.
"Enough. You will not humiliate my daughter."
I gently removed her hand.
"Your daughter humiliated herself."
Then I walked toward my truck.
Xavier called after me.
"You should think carefully before you reject an opportunity to cooperate."
I stopped.
Something in his tone caught my attention.
It wasn't concern.
It sounded like a warning.
I turned.
"Are you threatening me?"
He raised both hands.
"Just giving advice."
I got into my truck and drove away.
For twenty minutes, I had no destination.
I passed restaurants where Naomi and I used to celebrate birthdays.
I passed the theater where we'd seen our first movie.
I passed the pharmacy where I'd once bought her medicine at three in the morning.
Every street contained a memory.
And every memory now hurt.
Eventually, I pulled into a quiet gas station.
I turned on my phone.
Thirty-seven missed calls.
Most were from Naomi.
Some were from Patricia.
One was from an unknown number.
A voicemail notification appeared.
I played it.
"Mr. Walls, this is Angela Price. Dr. Bennett gave me your number and mentioned that you may need representation. Please call when convenient."
I called immediately.
She answered after two rings.
"Mr. Walls?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'm Angela."
Her voice was steady and professional.
"Dr. Bennett explained the situation. Have you signed anything?"
"No."
"Good. Don't."
I looked at the envelope beside me.
"There's a problem."
"Tell me."
I explained the graduation.
The affair.
Patricia's accusations.
Xavier's strange interest.
Angela listened without interrupting.
Then she asked a question.
"Has your former partner ever had access to your technical documents?"
I froze.
Naomi had used my laptop several times.
Sometimes I left it unlocked while repairing equipment.
"Yes."
"Did she participate in the invention?"
"No."
"Did she contribute any original technical ideas?"
"Not that I know of."
Angela paused.
"I want copies of your earliest sketches, engineering notebooks, test records, and correspondence. We need to establish your development history."
"I have all of that."
"Excellent."
Then her voice changed.
"One more thing. Did you ever sign a document granting Naomi ownership rights?"
I thought carefully.
"No."
"Are you certain?"
I remembered something.
About a year earlier, Naomi had brought home paperwork.
She said it was required for her research.
She asked me to sign a page acknowledging that I sometimes helped her with equipment.
I had been exhausted.
I signed without reading closely.
My stomach dropped.
"Actually..."
Angela heard the change in my voice.
"What is it?"
I told her.
She became silent.
Then she said, "Find that document."
I drove straight home.
The apartment felt strange without Naomi.
Her graduation flowers were still on the kitchen counter.
A congratulatory banner hung above the dining table.
I had bought it the night before.
I stared at it for a long moment.
Then I pulled it down.
I went into the bedroom.
Half her clothes were missing.
The drawers stood open.
Her jewelry box was gone.
She had already packed before graduation.
She knew she was leaving.
The realization hurt more than I expected.
I searched her desk.
Folders.
Receipts.
Research articles.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a locked drawer.
Naomi had always kept it locked.
She claimed it contained confidential university documents.
I found the spare key in a small ceramic bowl.
Inside was a thick stack of papers.
My name appeared on the third page.
I pulled it out.
The title made my blood run cold.
INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY CONTRIBUTION AND ASSIGNMENT AGREEMENT.
Near the bottom was my signature.
But that wasn't what frightened me.
Above it, typed into the ownership section, were words I had never agreed to.
CECRIC WALLS HEREBY ASSIGNS ALL RIGHTS IN THE LISTED TECHNOLOGY TO NAOMI BROOKS.
I sat down heavily.
Then I noticed another detail.
A handwritten date beside Naomi's name.
It was from six months earlier.
Six months after I had supposedly signed the agreement.
Someone had changed the document.
My hands began trembling.
I photographed every page.
Then I called Angela.
She answered immediately.
"Did you find it?"
"Yes."
"What does it say?"
I swallowed.
"It says I gave Naomi my invention."
Angela was quiet.
Then she asked, "Cedric, where is the original document?"
I looked at the pages.
"Right here."
"Secure it. Don't alter anything. I'm arranging to see you first thing tomorrow."
I stared at the signature.
My own name.
Used against me.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Naomi.
I KNOW YOU FOUND THE PAPERWORK.
Another message followed.
DON'T MAKE THIS UGLY.
I looked toward the apartment door.
May you like
How did she know?
Then the doorknob slowly began to turn.
