“Do you have an appointment?”
—
“No,” I said.
“But I have something better.”
—
Minutes later, I was sitting across from a lawyer in a glass office.
He looked skeptical.
Until I placed the ticket on his desk.
—
His expression shifted.
Slightly.
Carefully.
—
“What can I do for you?” he asked.
—
I leaned forward.
Ignoring the pain shooting up my leg.
—
“I want my assets protected.”
I paused.
Then added—
—
“And I want a full forensic investigation… into my parents.”
—
The room went still.
—
He studied me.
Long and hard.
—
“You understand,” he said slowly,
