Chapter 13
"That is less clear," Sonya said carefully.
"What I can tell you is that the modification was filed without your direct authorization.
You signed a document presented to you as a standard agreement.
The Hartwell clause was embedded in revised language on page four.
If you did not read page four—"
"I didn't read page four."
Silence on the line.
"Ms.
Caldwell," Derrick said.
"Who hired you?"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"I'm not at liberty to say.
But the person who contacted me wanted you to have this information before anything was finalized today."
"Someone inside the Whitmore family?"
She didn't answer that.
"If I give you authorization to act as my legal representative from this moment forward," Derrick said, "what would you need?"
"A verbal confirmation, which I'll document.
And access to a copy of the agreement at your earliest convenience."
"You have the verbal confirmation.
I'll get you the document today."
"Understood.
Mr.
Hayes — I'd recommend not signing anything further today.
And I'd recommend ensuring your mother is comfortable and safe.
Is she with you?"
He glanced back toward the ballroom.
"She's here," he said.
"She's all right."
"Good." For the first time, something warmer entered Sonya Caldwell's professional voice.
"She sounds like a remarkable woman."
He almost asked how she knew anything about his mother.
He stopped himself.
He looked back toward the ballroom doors.
Through the narrow window in the door, he could see Celestine speaking to Raymond.
She had taken off her frayed shawl and folded it neatly in her lap, as if tidying herself up for whatever came next.
"She is," he said.
He ended the call.
He stood in the corridor for thirty seconds.
Then he heard the ballroom doors open behind him, and when he turned around, it wasn't Raymond.
May you like
It wasn't Gerald.
It was Vanessa.
