The Judge Asked Which Signature Eric Wanted Her To Believe

June did not inspect the fleet that night.

She sat at our counter and read Schedule B while Eric paced between the racks.

"You should have asked me before taking his papers," he said.

"I'm asking you now," she answered. "Did you disclose this exclusion?"

"It doesn't describe the business today."

"Did you disclose it?"

"No."

June closed her case. She told us further loan disbursements were on hold while the credit office reviewed the file. She would send Dana the documents she was authorized to release.

After she left, Eric pointed at me.

"You just cost us $78,000."

"Whose company applied for it?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

Dana filed a civil complaint seeking a ruling on ownership and an accounting of our partnership money. She also asked for an early order to protect the fleet and records.

The papers took longer than an angry speech. Each claim needed a fact beneath it. Each fact needed a document or a person who could swear it was true.

I spent Friday at her office matching photographs to invoice lines.

Outside, snow turned the parked cars into soft white lumps. Inside, we checked dates.

On Monday, I sat in a courtroom in Hyde Park with a paper cup of water between my knees.

Eric had hired a lawyer named Paul Keene. Paul was polite. He had a folder much thinner than Dana's.

The judge explained that this hearing was about keeping property safe while the case moved forward. It was not the final trial.

She asked about the six current students. Dana explained that Mabel held their refundable deposits and had provided proof the full $1,800 was untouched.

"Is anyone asking to spend those funds?" the judge asked.

Neither lawyer was.

"Then their status will be preserved too."

I wrote that down. One family drove from beyond Montpelier every week. Another had arranged rides around a parent's night shifts. I couldn't fix every problem a court case created, but I could keep their money out of ours.

That helped me breathe.

Eric's lawyer said I had abandoned the workshop and was now trying to take its main source of income.

"He changed the passwords," Dana said. "My client did not abandon his work."

She handed up the message that called me hired help.

Eric leaned toward Paul and whispered something.

The judge read the message, then the partnership agreement.

"Mr. Lund, is that your signature?"

"Yes, but the business changed."

"Is there a later signed asset transfer?"

"We had an understanding."

"Please answer the question."

"No later document."

Dana showed the loan equipment list. It named every excluded item.

Paul said a financing notice had been filed against the partnership.

My stomach dropped. I had imagined a filing as a kind of locked door: once someone put a stamp on it, perhaps it became true.

Dana leaned close.

"A notice isn't a deed. It doesn't make his ownership claim true."

The judge asked for the underlying security papers, not just the filing.

Then she looked at Eric.

"On one document, you acknowledge these assets belong to Mr. Abbasi. On the loan list, you present them as available collateral. Which signed statement reflects your position?"

"The current one," Eric said.

"What transferred title between the two?"

He stared at the table.

"I built the customer base."

The judge waited.

Nothing followed.

She ordered that the disputed equipment stay in the workshop. No sale, no transfer, no removal. Both sides had to preserve the booking records, messages, and financial files.

She also put an access arrangement into the order after the lawyers agreed on it. I could enter at set times to check the current students' fittings. Mabel could continue their existing lessons under the temporary arrangement.

New rentals using my fleet would wait.

Eric would have to use his own contact details for his new company. He could not present it as a second Thawline location while the case was pending.

It wasn't a victory speech. The clerk gave us copies. Dana checked the wording. We left through a heavy door into the cold.

Mabel was waiting outside.

"Can Nora keep Thursday?"

"Yes."

"Then we have Thursday."

She handed me a warm sandwich wrapped in foil.

At the workshop that afternoon, Eric stayed in the office while I checked a seat strap. The room felt strange with someone counting each minute I was allowed inside it.

Nora watched me cup two screws in my hands.

"Mom said there's a judge now."

"There is."

"Does she ski?"

"I didn't ask."

"You should. It helps to know the snow."

I smiled. "I'll keep that in mind."

After she left with Mabel, Dana called.

Green Hollow had supplied the signed ownership certificate and its first payment record.

Eric had certified that no one else owned the listed fleet.

The loan was for $78,000.

He had already drawn $12,000.