Gwen Brought Her Storefront Deed Into A Hearing About My Accordions

Emil wore his church suit to court. He carried his cap, although the room was warm.

"I'm nervous," he told me.

"You played for three hundred people last New Year's."

"None of them had a judge."

Leah had put colored tabs on our copies. I kept my hands flat on the folder so I wouldn't rub the white scar on my thumb.

Gwen sat across the aisle with her lawyer. She had brought the deed to her building in a clear sleeve.

When the judge asked what remained in dispute, Gwen's lawyer said the black accordion had been used as a display item for nearly two years.

"The business built its reputation around these instruments," he said.

Leah stood.

"And the business had written permission to display them. That permission did not transfer ownership."

She offered the schedule, the personal payment records, and the auction receipt.

The judge read before asking questions. I liked her for that.

"Ms. Mazur, how do you identify this instrument?"

"Serial number 4417, inside the grille. There's also a repaired split under the left strap bracket. It's in the opening photographs."

"Was the purchase made with company funds?"

"No. I bought it eleven months before we formed the company."

"Did the company later buy it from you?"

"No."

Leah showed the bank payment of $2,100 and the dated auction record. Then she placed the signed schedule beside the opening photographs.

The schedule had a small coffee ring near the staple. Gwen had set her cup on it while we checked the opening list together. I remembered being annoyed about the stain.

Now the original lay in front of the judge, with the ring crossing a corner of Gwen's initials.

There was also an email from that evening. Gwen had attached a scan for our bookkeeper and written, Here is the final list of Zofia's loan items.

Leah read that one sentence aloud. I watched Gwen recognize her own words before she looked down at the table.

Gwen leaned toward her lawyer.

The judge asked her about the signature at the bottom of the schedule.

"That's mine," Gwen said.

"And these initials beside the property list?"

"Mine. But Zofia filled out all that paperwork. I was trying to get us open."

"Did you read it?"

"She explained it."

"What did she explain?"

Gwen looked at me.

"That the things she brought were hers."

The room stayed very still.

Her lawyer asked whether I had ever discussed selling instruments through the shop.

"Sometimes," I said. "Each sale needed a separate owner authorization. We have three old examples. They name the instrument and minimum price."

Leah supplied them. My real signature spread across each page in the same plain strokes.

Then she supplied Mara's invoice.

Gwen's lawyer said his client believed she had approval after a general talk about improving winter cash flow.

"Did you sign Ms. Mazur's name?" the judge asked Gwen.

"I wrote it down because she was busy."

"Had she authorized that?"

"We were partners."

"That was not the question."

Gwen pressed her lips together.

"Not in those exact words."

Leah asked me whether I had given permission in any words.

"No."

We weren't there to decide every money claim that morning. Leah had warned me about that. But the invoice was part of why my property needed protection.

Emil explained the storage risk. He described steel reeds, leather valves, and wax that could loosen after rough handling.

"Could it simply remain in the locker?" the judge asked.

"A dry living room would be kinder," he said. "It has already spent enough years being old."

Someone behind us gave a small laugh. Emil looked alarmed, then sat down.

Gwen's lawyer offered the building deed as part of the background.

The judge glanced at it.

"I see no connection between ownership of this building and ownership of this listed movable instrument."

For weeks, Gwen had made the storefront sound like a mouth that could swallow anything carried through its door.

On that bench, it became a building again.

The judge ordered the black accordion released to me within forty-eight hours, with its condition documented at pickup. The order preserved the remaining claims for later proceedings.

Both sides also agreed on the record that no company assets would be sold while the books were reviewed without written agreement.

Outside, Gwen stopped beside me.

"You made this public," she said.

"You put price cards on my work."

She looked toward Emil, perhaps waiting for him to soften it.

He put on his cap.

"You'll want to keep that return appointment," he said.

Leah walked me to the courthouse doors. Her phone buzzed before we reached them.

It was our bookkeeper, who had received the records request and the court papers.

She had found a problem in the winter ledger.

The subject line on the page Leah showed me read: Owner Withdrawals Requiring Explanation.