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Chapter 10 - A Desperate Settlement Offer

Thirty days before our scheduled court appearance, my father showed up at my front door alone.

Marcus watched from the kitchen window, ready to step in, but Dad didn't look like an attacker. He looked broken. His shoulders were slumped, his coat wrinkled, and in his right hand, he carried a small, worn leather pouch.

I opened the door. "Dad. I told you, all communication has to go through Sarah."

"I know, Claire. I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m not here to yell at you. I’m not here on Evelyn’s orders. In fact, she doesn't know I’m here."

I paused, looking at his tired, sorrowful face. I stepped back and opened the door wider. "Come in."

He walked into the living room, declining a seat, and stood in the center of the rug, looking around our modest, warm home.

"Mia got the full ride, didn't she?" he asked softly.

"She did," I said. "Stanford. Full tuition and board."

A faint, genuine smile flickered across his lips, followed quickly by a wave of regret. "She’s brilliant. Just like you were. And I... I was a coward, Claire. For forty years, it was just easier to let Evelyn run the show. She favored Andrew, and I convinced myself that keeping peace in the house was the most important thing. But it wasn't peace. It was just cowardice."

"Why are you here, Dad?"

He looked down at the leather pouch in his hands. "Andrew’s creditors are circling. He tried to take a second mortgage on his own house to buy you out, but his credit score is in the five hundreds. The bank laughed him out of the lobby. Elmhurst Lane is going to be sold, Claire. The judge will order it next month. Evelyn is packing boxes in secret, crying every night, still blaming you."

"I didn't cause this, Dad," I said firmly.

"I know you didn't," Dad said. He unzipped the leather pouch and pulled out an antique brass key with a tiny serial number engraved on the barrel. "Your mother thinks she knows everything about Eleanor’s estate. She thinks Eleanor only left that will."

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I frowned, looking at the key. "What is that?"

"Your grandmother Eleanor had a private safety deposit box at First National Bank on Oak Street," Dad said, holding the key out to me. "She gave me this key two weeks before she died in the hospital. She told me, 'Richard, Evelyn is going to ruin this family with her foolishness. If the day ever comes when Claire needs protection, you give her this key.'"

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