PART 2
Judge Calder’s question came quietly, but it landed harder than any accusation Russell Crane had made all morning.
“Mr. Hollis,” he said, holding the incorporation papers between both hands, “why is your wife’s maiden name listed as the company’s original majority owner?”
For the first time since I had walked into Courtroom Four, Adrian did not move.
His confident smile faltered. Paige turned toward him, her polished expression tightening into confusion. Russell leaned forward so quickly his chair creaked against the floor.
“My wife’s what?” Adrian said.
The judge looked over the rim of his glasses. “Elena Lane. Seventy-two percent ownership of Hollis Transit Systems at the time of incorporation.”
A murmur passed through the courtroom.
I kept my hands folded on the table, though beneath it my fingers were trembling. Not from fear. From the sheer weight of twelve years spent waiting for the truth to be spoken aloud.
Adrian recovered just enough to laugh once, sharply and without humor.
“That’s impossible.”
“It is not impossible,” Judge Calder said. “It is printed on the original state filing.”
Russell whispered urgently to Adrian, but Adrian ignored him.
“She signed those papers as a formality,” he said. “That was before the company had value.”
The judge’s expression did not change. “Then you acknowledge the filing is authentic?”
Adrian’s face drained further.
Across the aisle, Samuel and Owen sat close together. Samuel’s eyes were fixed on his father. Owen was looking at me, searching my face for an explanation I had never wanted him to need inside a courtroom.
I gave him the smallest nod I could manage.
Russell stood. “Your Honor, we would request a brief recess to review these documents.”
“You may have ten minutes,” Judge Calder said. “But I suggest you use them carefully.”
The gavel came down.
The moment we stepped into the corridor, Adrian turned on me with disbelief rather than anger.
“What have you done?”
I looked at the man I had once loved, the man who used to fall asleep at our tiny kitchen table with fuel receipts scattered around his elbows and hope written plainly across his face.
“I told the truth,” I said.
Paige appeared beside him, her voice lowered. “Adrian, what is she talking about?”
He did not answer her.
That silence told her more than any explanation could have.
