My next call wasn’t to my son.
It was to my lawyer.
Her name was Martha Gable.
She studied the document, then looked at me carefully.
“Are you certain?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “He needs to learn.”
She nodded once.
“Then we proceed.”
David called first, furious and incredulous.
“You’re suing me?”
“You signed a contract,” I replied.
“It was a gift!”
“A gift doesn’t come with demands,” I said quietly. “This was a loan.”
Discovery revealed everything.
Every receipt. Every transfer. Every indulgent expense.
Continue on the next page:
