Chapter 5
The car pulled up in front of a gray building.
There was no sign at the entrance, and nobody said a word as they came and went.
I followed the middle-aged woman inside. There were three people already waiting in the conference room. The old man in the middle, with a head of white hair, got up as soon as he saw me.
"Margaret, finally, you're here," he said.
I called out, "Mr. Grant."
He tapped his fingers on the edge of the table, like he was trying to keep it together.
"Before your mother passed away, she entrusted your name to me. I've been trying to find you for ten years," he said.
I dropped my gaze.
"I'm married," I said.
"I know," he said quietly.
He glanced at the scuffed old bag in my hands.
"I know it's been tough for you these past years," he said.
I didn't say anything.
The middle-aged woman spread out the documents.
"This project is locked down for twenty years. During that time, you won't be able to contact anyone outside, your personal info gets archived, and you can't talk about what you do with anyone. If you sign, you'll have to go through a medical exam and a background check tonight," she explained.
The old man said, "You don't have to do this. You've still got your kid, and your marriage."
I gave a bitter laugh.
"They're all slipping away anyway," I said.
The conference room door swung open, and a young man walked in, arms full of thick files. He stopped in his tracks when he saw me.
"You're Margaret?" he blurted out, his voice a little too loud.
He hadn't meant to be so loud.
The old man cleared his throat.
The young man quickly set the files down, his ears turning red.
"Sorry, I just didn't expect you to be so young," he said.
"I'm not that young anymore," I replied.
The old man slid a wooden box across the table to me.
"This is something your mother left behind. Before you decide, just take a look," he said.
Inside the box was a small, well-used repair knife, its handle polished smooth from years of work, and a yellowed slip of paper.
My mother's handwriting was steady.
'Margaret, keep your hands steady, and your heart too. Don't spend your whole life on someone who doesn't get you.'
I closed the box.
"Give me the pen," I said.
The middle-aged woman handed me a pen.
Just as I was about to sign, I heard voices raised in argument outside the conference room.
"That's my wife in there! Why the hell can't I go in?" Edward shouted.
That was definitely Edward's voice.
Daniel's voice followed, yelling, "Mom, come out! What kind of stunt are you pulling now?"
The middle-aged woman's expression darkened.
The old man glanced at me.
"Want us to take care of it?" he asked.
I put the pen down.
"I'll take care of it myself," I said.
The door swung open.
Edward was standing in the hallway, with Clara and Daniel right behind him.
They looked like they'd been chasing me down—Daniel was sweating, and Clara still had that phone in her hand.
Edward's face showed a flash of confusion when he saw the old man and the documents in the conference room.
"Margaret, who are these people?" Edward demanded.
I shot back, "How did you even find this place?"
Clara said softly, "Margaret, don't blame Edward. Daniel was afraid you'd get tricked by some scammer, so I checked your trip records."
The middle-aged woman's face darkened.
"Who gave you permission to check that?" she demanded.
Clara looked startled.
"I was just worried about her," she said.
Daniel stepped forward.
"Mom, you'd rather hang out with a bunch of strangers than even care about me going to Ostville?" he shot back.
The old man just shot him a look and stayed silent.
Edward's eyes were glued to the file on the table.
"Margaret, come home with me right now. We can talk about the divorce later—don't make a fool of yourself in public," he said.
"I'm not going back," I said.
"How long are you going to keep making a scene?" Edward snapped.
"Until you sign the papers," I shot back.
Edward lowered his voice.
"Do you even know what kind of place this is? No sign, no credentials—you're just going to believe whatever they say? You've been sheltered for years, and now you're ready to sign anything just because someone says a few nice words to you?" he said.
The old man froze, his hand hovering over his teacup.
The young man's face darkened, looking seriously pissed.
Clara glanced at the documents and gave a soft, mocking laugh.
"Margaret, if you really want a job, I can hook you up with some grunt work at the studio. No need to act like this is some big deal," she said.
Daniel chimed in without missing a beat.
"Yeah, stop kidding yourself. Seriously, what are you good for? Cleaning tables or rinsing paintbrushes?" he sneered.
I picked up the pen.
Edward suddenly lunged, trying to snatch the documents.
The middle-aged woman stepped in front of him, blocking his way.
"Mr. Walker, please leave," she said.
Edward's expression turned furious.
"I'm her husband!" he shouted.
The old man set his teacup down.
"Not for much longer," he said.
The hallway went dead silent.
Edward turned to the old man. "And who are you supposed to be?"
The old man didn't answer him. He just looked at me and said, "Margaret, go ahead and sign."
I scribbled my name on the papers.
Daniel burst in out of nowhere and grabbed my wrist.
"Don't sign it! If you do, who's gonna cook for me now? Who's gonna wash my clothes? What am I supposed to do if you just walk out on me?" he shouted.
This time, several people in the conference room turned to look at him.
Daniel looked like he just realized what he'd said—his face went red, then pale.
I gently pulled my hand away.
"Didn't you say you didn't want me as your mom anymore?" I said.
He tried to brush it off.
"I just said it out of anger," he muttered.
"I meant it," I replied.
I finished signing and capped the pen.
Edward's expression finally shifted.
For the first time, his voice almost sounded pleading.
"Margaret, let's go home and talk things over," he said.
I looked at him.
"Tomorrow at ten, courthouse. It's your last shot," I said.
Edward showed up the next day.
He didn't come alone.
My mother-in-law, Clara, Daniel, and two of his colleagues from the calligraphy academy were all waiting at the courthouse entrance.
As soon as my mother-in-law saw me, she stormed over.
"Margaret, you heartless woman! Edward didn't sleep a wink last night—are you happy now?" she yelled.
I slipped out of her grasp.
Helen stepped in front of me.
"Lady, if you're looking to fake an injury, go do it at the hospital entrance. This isn't the place for that," Helen shot back.
My mother-in-law jabbed a finger at Helen. "You're the one pushing her to get a divorce! You couldn't keep your own marriage together, so now you can't stand anyone else being happy!"
Helen rolled up her sleeves.
"Your son brings another woman home, and you call that happiness? Lady, you're not just blind—your heart's so far gone, it's not even in the same zip code," Helen shot back.
Edward's voice was low and commanding. "That's enough. We're here to talk, not to fight."
As he spoke, he handed me a new agreement.
"I'll give you half the value of the house, and 70 thousand dollars from the savings. Daniel stays with me. You're not allowed to bother Clara anymore, and you can't go around talking about our family business," he said.
I flipped to the last page.
"70 thousand dollars?" I asked.
"That's plenty," Edward said, his tone cold.
My mother-in-law jumped in right away. "She doesn't even have a job—she could live off 70 grand for years. If Edward wasn't being so generous, she wouldn't get a single dollar."
I looked at Edward. "Do you even know what the house is worth now?"
His face darkened.
"Since when did you start caring about that?" he shot back.
"I don't have to know everything—I can ask," I replied.
Clara cut in, "Margaret, it's not that Edward doesn't want to give you money. The house is just close to Daniel's school—we shouldn't mess up his routine."
I looked at her.
"Who do you think you are, talking about my house?" I shot back.
Clara looked down.