The signature on the deed was mine.

But I had been unconscious in surgery when it was supposedly signed.

My father placed a file in front of me.

“Fraud,” he said. “Forgery. Marital asset concealment. Potential tax evasion. And if he used company money to bribe the notary, his board will want blood.”

I stared at the evidence.

For the first time in days, I stopped shaking.

My mother touched my shoulder. “Do you want revenge or peace?”

I looked at my sleeping sons.

“Both,” I said.

part  3