Chapter 4
I stood perfectly still.
The doorknob turned again.
Then someone knocked.
"Cedric?"
Naomi.
I didn't move.
"Cedric, I know you're home."
I looked down at the agreement.
My hands tightened around the papers.
"What do you want?"
Her voice softened.
"Please open the door."
I walked into the hallway.
"Are you alone?"
A pause.
"Yes."
I checked the peephole.
She stood outside wearing jeans and a pale sweater.
No graduation gown.
No makeup.
Her eyes were red.
For a second, she looked like the woman I'd once loved.
Then I remembered the papers.
I opened the door but remained in the doorway.
She immediately tried to hug me.
I stepped back.
"Don't."
Her face crumpled.
"Cedric, please."
"What do you want, Naomi?"
She looked past me.
Her eyes moved toward the bedroom.
"I need some documents."
I almost smiled.
"Which documents?"
She swallowed.
"Some university paperwork."
"Funny."
"What?"
"You weren't worried about your paperwork until I found it."
Her expression changed.
"Cedric..."
I held up the agreement.
"Is this what you're looking for?"
She stared at it.
The color drained from her face.
"Where did you get that?"
"Your desk."
"You had no right to go through my things."
I looked at her in disbelief.
"You left a document in our apartment claiming I gave away my invention, and you're angry that I found it?"
Her eyes darted toward the hallway.
"Keep your voice down."
"Why?"
"Because the neighbors are listening."
I shook my head.
"You were happy to humiliate me in front of hundreds of people."
She flinched.
"Cedric, I made a mistake."
"Which one?"
She looked confused.
"The affair?"
I took a step closer.
"The lies?"
Her breathing quickened.
"Or trying to steal my father's invention?"
She started crying.
"I didn't steal anything."
"Then explain the agreement."
She wiped her cheeks.
"It was part of a business plan."
"What business plan?"
She looked away.
I waited.
Finally, she whispered, "Xavier said we needed to protect the technology."
I felt sick.
"We?"
"He said you didn't understand how corporations work."
"So you signed my invention over to yourself?"
"It wasn't supposed to hurt you."
I laughed bitterly.
"You changed paperwork without telling me."
"I was going to explain."
"When?"
She said nothing.
I watched her carefully.
"Before or after you left me?"
Tears slipped down her face.
"I never meant for things to happen like this."
"But they did."
She stepped closer.
"Cedric, I still care about you."
I stared at her.
She had said that sentence hundreds of times.
When she needed tuition money.
When her car needed repairs.
When she wanted to attend an expensive conference.
I used to believe it meant love.
Now it sounded like a request.
"Go home, Naomi."
She shook her head.
"Please give me the agreement."
"No."
Her face hardened.
"That document belongs to me."
"Then you can have your attorney request a copy."
She stared.
"Attorney?"
"Yes."
"Cedric, you're making this much bigger than it needs to be."
I stepped back.
"No. I'm finally treating it seriously."
She looked frightened.
Then she whispered, "You don't understand Xavier."
Something in her voice made me stop.
"What does that mean?"
She shook her head.
"Nothing."
"Naomi."
She looked toward the hallway again.
"He isn't someone you want to fight."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
Before she could answer, her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
Xavier.
She declined the call.
It rang again.
Then again.
She backed away.
"I have to go."
"Naomi, what have you gotten involved in?"
She looked at me.
For one moment, the arrogance disappeared.
I saw fear.
Real fear.
"Just be careful," she whispered.
Then she turned and hurried down the stairs.
I closed the door.
And locked it.
The next morning, I met Angela Price in her downtown office.
She was a Black woman in her forties, dressed in a dark blue suit.
She had the kind of calm confidence that made people lower their voices.
I handed her the documents.
She read them carefully.
Then she examined the signature dates.
"This is troubling," she said.
I leaned forward.
"Can Naomi take my invention?"
"Not simply because this document says so."
I exhaled.
Angela raised one finger.
"But we need to investigate. The authenticity, timing, and validity of this agreement are all important."
She explained that ownership wasn't determined by who had the loudest voice or the most impressive degree.
We needed evidence.
And fortunately, I had years of it.
I gave her photographs of my notebooks.
Old emails.
Prototype videos.
Invoices for components.
Testing records dated long before Naomi's research began.
Angela reviewed them.
A small smile appeared.
"Cedric, you've kept excellent records."
"My father taught me."
"He taught you well."
Then she opened another folder.
"I also contacted Meridian's counsel with your permission."
I sat straighter.
"What did they say?"
"They confirmed their interest. But they also disclosed something unusual."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"Another party contacted them claiming partial ownership of your technology."
I already knew.
"Naomi."
Angela nodded.
"Through a private investment firm."
She slid a page across the desk.
At the top was a company name.
COLEMAN STRATEGIC VENTURES.
I stared.
"Xavier."
"Do you know him?"
I told her about the white suit.
The parking lot.
The eight-month affair.
Angela wrote something down.
Then she looked at me.
"We may be dealing with an attempted acquisition of rights through a questionable agreement."
"Can we stop it?"
"We can challenge the claim and notify the buyer about the dispute."
I nodded.
"Do whatever you need."
Angela studied my face.
"There's something else you should know."
I waited.
"The fourteen-million-dollar offer may not represent the full commercial value of your design."
I blinked.
"What do you mean?"
"Meridian wants the patent rights, your prototypes, your test data, and your future technical assistance."
"Okay."
"That means they're not simply buying an idea."
She leaned forward.
"They're buying years of development and a potentially valuable transportation-safety platform."
I stared at her.
"So fourteen million isn't necessarily the best offer?"
"Not necessarily."
I thought about the garage.
My father's tools.
All the nights I nearly quit.
"What should I do?"
"First, protect your ownership. Then negotiate from a position of strength."
I nodded slowly.
For once, someone was telling me not to rush.
Not to sacrifice.
Not to give everything away.
My phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
Angela gestured for me to answer.
I put it on speaker.
"Hello?"
A man's voice replied.
"Mr. Walls, this is Xavier Coleman."
My jaw tightened.
"What do you want?"
"To resolve a misunderstanding."
"There isn't one."
He chuckled.
"Don't be emotional."
Angela wrote something on a notepad.
ASK WHO HE REPRESENTS.
I took a breath.
"Who are you calling on behalf of?"
"My investment firm."
"Regarding?"
"Your brake-system technology."
Angela nodded for me to continue.
"What are you proposing?"
Xavier lowered his voice.
"Give Naomi the ownership percentage she deserves, and I'll make sure your deal goes through."
I looked at Angela.
Her expression sharpened.
"And if I don't?"
A long silence.
Then Xavier said, "Then you might discover that nobody wants to buy a disputed invention."
My heart pounded.
Angela leaned toward the phone.
"Mr. Coleman, my name is Angela Price. I represent Cedric Walls."
Silence.
Then Xavier cursed softly.
Angela continued.
"Please direct all future communications regarding this matter to my office."
He hung up.
I stared at the phone.
Angela closed her notebook.
"Well," she said, "that was informative."
I tried to smile.
I couldn't.
"Am I in trouble?"
She looked at me steadily.
"You have a fight ahead of you."
Then she placed a hand over the evidence folder.
"But you are not fighting alone."
That afternoon, while leaving her office, I received another message.
This one wasn't from Naomi.
It was from an unknown number.
Attached was a photograph.
My father's old repair shop.
The windows were broken.
The front door had been spray-painted.
Across the wall were four words.
GIVE HER WHAT'S HERS.
My chest went cold.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
NEXT TIME, IT WON'T BE EMPTY.
