The mahogany table inside the top-floor conference room felt icy beneath Maya's fingertips. Rain tapped against the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking downtown Chicago.
Victoria: Sign the waiver, Maya. We don't have all afternoon to babysit you.
Maya looked down at the crisp white legal document placed right in front of her chair. Her stepmother tapped manicured red nails against the wood.
Maya: This paperwork says I give up every claim to my father's remaining personal belongings. Even his workshop tools.
Julian: Those rusty tools are junk anyway, little sister. Just sign it so Mom can finally close the probate account.
Her stepbrother Julian leaned back in his designer suit, casually spinning his gold watch. He looked at Maya's faded thrift-store jacket with complete disgust.
Maya: Dad promised me his sketchbooks and his mother's locket before he passed away. Why are those listed as company assets?
Victoria: Because everything in his estate belongs to the business debt now. Your father left us with millions in unpaid medical bills and loans.
Maya: That doesn't make any sense. Dad built this manufacturing firm from scratch for thirty years. He always told me—
Victoria: Your father was delusional during his final months. He made terrible investments behind my back.
Julian: We are doing you a massive favor, Maya. If you don't sign the liability waiver today, the creditors will come after you for his mortgage debt.
Maya felt her throat tighten, but she refused to let tears fall in front of them.
Maya: I worked seventy hours a week at the diner just to pay for his hospice care. Neither of you visited him once during his last month.
Victoria: How dare you lecture me about family loyalty? I managed his affairs while you cried in hallways.
The heavy double doors of the boardroom suddenly swung open with a dull click.
Arthur Vance: Nobody signs a single page until I finish reviewing the updated registry.
Arthur Vance, her father's lifelong personal attorney, walked in carrying a worn leather briefcase bound by brass latches.
Victoria: Arthur, what are you doing here? Our corporate legal team already finalized the asset distribution.
Arthur Vance: Your corporate team only had access to the public filings, Victoria. They did not have the key to David's private safe.
Maya stared at the weathered brass key hanging from the attorney's fingers, her pulse suddenly racing.
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