Wyatt Faced the Inventory Under the Courthouse Lights in Carthage

I wore a clean shirt to court and found a bit of blue linen caught on its cuff.

I pulled it free before we went inside. Lan held out her hand for it.

"You'll lose it in there," she said.

She put it in her pocket like a small tool worth keeping.

The courtroom in Carthage smelled of wet coats. Wyatt sat beside his lawyer, turning a pen between two fingers. Ellis waited in the row behind us. He had brought the full sale contract and his bank proof.

Janel leaned toward me.

"This hearing is about protection while the case moves forward. We aren't trying every claim today."

I nodded, though I wanted everything done before lunch.

Janel set the exhibit list in front of me. Every item had a number. I checked that the original inventory was first, then moved my water cup away from its edge.

When my name was called, I took the oath. Janel asked how I bought the equipment and how the company got permission to use it.

I gave dates and amounts. She handed me the original loan inventory.

"Whose initials are beside the trailer number?"

"Mine and Wyatt's."

"Did you later agree to give the trailer to the company?"

"No."

Wyatt's lawyer asked whether the company had paid for trailer tires.

"Yes," I said. "It wore them out doing business."

"And you accepted that benefit?"

"We both accepted the use of the trailer. The agreement made the company pay running costs."

Janel turned to that paragraph. The judge read it before asking the next question.

"Where is the signed change to this agreement?"

Wyatt's lawyer offered the correction sheet. It listed all my equipment as a contribution to the company. Behind it was a copy of my signature from the formation packet.

Janel showed the court the complete original packet. Her old office copy and my saved email matched. The page numbers ran straight through the loan inventory to the signature page.

The new sheet broke that order.

Wyatt's lawyer asked for a short pause to speak with him.

They talked at the end of a bench while I stared at my hands. I had a dark nick where a needle had caught me two days earlier.

When we resumed, his lawyer said Wyatt accepted that no later transfer had been signed. They would agree to return the equipment, with the remaining money claims left open.

There was no gasp in the room. A clerk kept typing.

I had pictured Wyatt being made to look at me. Instead, he looked at his pen.

Ellis gave evidence about his $8,000. It had gone to Wyatt's personal account under Wyatt's written instructions. Ellis also explained why the $20,000 balance remained unpaid.

"He couldn't show clear title," Ellis said. "I stopped."

Janel asked about the harnesses.

"I thought they were shop stock. Ms. Pham showed me they weren't. I didn't remove them."

Lan's signed count supported that. Nobody claimed Ellis had left with customer property.

Then Janel showed the prepaid list and the email about my finishing the work.

"Was Mr. Do part of that agreement?" the judge asked.

"I believed he'd cooperate," Wyatt said when his lawyer put him on the stand.

"After the sale of his tools?"

"He has other hand tools."

That was what twenty-three years of work had become in his mouth. A pair of needles in a pocket. Something he could promise for free.

The lawyers worked through a written consent order during another break. I read each page before signing.

It settled title to my listed equipment and required its return. The old company accounts would need both managers' approval. Records had to be preserved and supplied to an independent accountant. Wyatt agreed to take no new deposits for the company while it wound down.

Neither the order nor my signature gave up the missing-money claims.

The judge signed after both sides confirmed the terms.

Outside, Wyatt tried to catch my arm. I stepped aside before he touched me.

"You could have just talked to me," he said.

Janel held up the folder containing her unanswered demand.

"He did."

Lan drove me back to the stable. She said nothing about winning. On a wet road near town, she slowed for a truck hauling hay.

"Your things come home tomorrow," she said. "Make room."

At the office, I cleared my temporary table. Lan gave me back the blue thread. I tied it through the handle of my tool roll.

Ellis called before I left.

"I'm coming for the handover," he said. "There's one more message you should see. Wyatt told me to use a different pickup address."