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.
