Chapter 3
Priya told me to give her the message and get into the car.
I showed her the photo. She studied the warehouse door, then sent it to someone on her team.
“That building is part of the company?” she asked.
“It’s our oldest factory.”
“Can you identify the door?”
“Records storage. Dad converted that warehouse years ago.”
Arthur leaned over to look. “Who else knew your father kept things there?”
“I didn’t.”
That was the part I couldn’t stop thinking about.
At the courthouse, Priya asked the judge for an emergency order. Richard’s attorney argued that I was angry about losing my job and wanted to disrupt a lawful sale. I sat behind Priya, hearing my own life reduced to a dispute about a signature.
Then she showed the judge my travel records from November and the original trust pages from Dad’s briefcase.
The judge ordered the sale proceeds held, the company records preserved, and Richard barred from disposing of assets outside ordinary business until a longer hearing could be held. She also appointed a neutral examiner to review the disputed documents.
It was a narrow decision. To me, it felt like the first door opening in ten years.
Richard was at the back of the courtroom when we left.
“You’re enjoying this,” he said to Arthur.
Arthur walked on.
Richard turned to me. “You don’t know what’s in that briefcase, son.”
“Don’t call me that.”
His jaw moved.
“I gave you a place in this company.”
“You gave me a desk and took it away whenever I asked a question.”
Richard glanced at Priya, then lowered his voice. “Go home. Talk to your mother. End this before employees start paying for your pride.”
I thought of the people at the factory, many of whom had worked for Dad.
“That’s why I’m here,” I said.
I left before he could answer.
The court order meant Richard couldn’t clear out the warehouse. It didn’t mean he would obey. Priya arranged for the examiner and a court officer to meet us there that afternoon.
I knew every turn on the road to the factory. Dad used to drive me there on Saturdays. He would buy us coffee from the gas station, pour half of mine into a paper cup of milk, and call it a business meeting.
When we pulled into the lot, three workers stood by the loading dock.
One of them was Maria Torres.
She had run shipping since I was twelve. Richard had told me last month that she quit.
She marched toward our car before I opened the door.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“I thought you left.”
Maria looked toward the warehouse. “That’s what he told you?”
Priya introduced herself and showed Maria the order.
Maria read it slowly. Her hand shook when she returned it.
“Richard put me on leave,” she said. “I refused to sign a delivery report.”
“What delivery?” I asked.
“Machines that were supposed to come here. On paper, they did. I never saw them.”
She led us inside.
The factory floor was quieter than I remembered. A few workers looked up from their stations. I recognized worry on every face. They had seen the auction notice too.
At the records warehouse, the court officer found the scratches from the photo. The lock had been changed that morning. He asked the site manager for the key, and we waited while a maintenance worker brought one.
The room smelled of cardboard and metal shelves.
Maria went directly to a row of gray cabinets. “Your dad kept a second log,” she said. “He said if a number looked wrong, we should check the deliveries against it.”
“How do you know about the message?” I asked.
She stopped.
“I sent it.”
“Why anonymously?”
“Richard still has people watching my house.”
The court officer opened the first cabinet. It held empty folders.
Maria swore under her breath.
The second cabinet was empty too.
I felt Richard’s words at the courthouse come back to me. He had known we might come.
“Check the bottom drawer,” Maria said.
The examiner knelt. The drawer stuck halfway. He reached behind it and felt along the frame.
Something clicked.
A thin panel came free, revealing a small metal box. Maria pressed a hand to her mouth.
Dad had always hidden spare keys in places I never expected. I could hear him saying, You looked where everyone looks.
The examiner opened the box in front of us.
Inside were a notebook, a drive, and a sealed envelope with my name on it.
I picked up the envelope. Dad’s handwriting ran across the front.
For Ethan, if the company stops feeling like home.
I had to steady myself against the cabinet.
Priya gently touched my arm. “The examiner needs to record what we found. Then you can open the letter.”
While he photographed the box, Maria stepped close.
“There’s something else,” she whispered.
“What?”
“The deliveries weren’t the only thing missing. Richard’s been telling us the company can’t make payroll.”
“Can it?”
May you like
Maria looked at the notebook in the examiner’s hands.
“Your father kept more than records in that room,” she said. “He kept a promise to the workers. Richard has been using it as his own money.”
