The Judge Asked Who Had Approved The New Royalty Payee

The courthouse floor was wet with melted snow.

I wiped my shoes twice before I sat beside Mara. Sabine sat across the room in a cream coat. Leon had chosen a seat behind her lawyer.

She looked at my red folder and gave the small smile she used when I had brought too much to a potluck.

"Still keeping every scrap," she said.

"Yes."

Mara touched my sleeve. I faced the front.

The hearing concerned the money still in Sandglass and the records needed to trace the rest. We were not there to finish the divorce or settle every claim in one morning.

Still, it felt like the first honest morning of my marriage in years.

Anika testified about the agreement and the company's records. She had brought the file herself.

"Who could request reports?" Mara asked.

"Either named breeder."

"Who had to approve an assignment?"

"Both named breeders, in writing, with company acceptance."

Sabine's lawyer asked whether she had handled most of the business calls.

"Yes," Anika said.

"And Mr. Baptiste rarely called?"

"He rarely called."

"Wouldn't that suggest he trusted his wife to manage these matters?"

"It would suggest he rarely called. His retained rights are written in the agreement."

She said it without heat. The lawyer moved on.

When I took the stand, my mouth felt dry enough to hold dust.

"Did you let your wife handle your finances?" her lawyer asked.

"Most household finances. Yes."

"You signed papers she put in front of you?"

"After I read them."

"Always?"

I thought about insurance renewals and repair forms.

"I can't say always. I can say I did not approve this assignment."

He held up the page with my copied name.

"It bears your signature."

"It bears a picture of my signature from a snowblower receipt."

The examiner's report had been submitted under an agreement between the lawyers for this hearing. Mara turned to the comparison page.

I pointed out the slice of zero.

Then she asked me about our early draft.

"Why did you ask for both signatures?"

"Because we each did work the other couldn't give away."

"Did that include your wife's work?"

"Yes. It still does."

Sabine looked up then.

I was not asking the court to pretend she had never stood in a field with me. I was asking it to stop her from using those fields to make me disappear.

On her turn, Sabine said Sandglass had been a sound business choice.

"Etienne gets upset over details," she said. "I spared him the pressure."

Mara placed the email before her.

"Did sparing him pressure require telling him the launch failed?"

Sabine looked toward Leon.

"There were early setbacks."

"Was that statement true when this email was sent?"

"No. Not then."

The room stayed very quiet.

"Did he give written approval for the assignment?"

"He would have, if he had understood."

The judge leaned forward.

"That was not the question, Ms. Morel."

Sabine folded her hands.

"I handled the document."

"Did he approve it?"

"No."

I looked down at the seam of the wooden rail. I did not want her face to be the thing I remembered.

The judge ordered the identified royalty proceeds in the Sandglass account preserved while the claims were decided. Ordinary company expenses would need agreement or further court approval. There would be no closing distribution.

The order covered $402,000 then held in that account. It also required records for the accounting and kept notice of future royalty payments going to both breeders and counsel.

Mara explained the security the court required from me. I could cover the $2,500 from savings. It was a hard expense, but it had an amount and a receipt.

I understood those.

Mara gave me the filed order before we left. I checked my name, the account number, and the date. For months, I had wanted someone to say I was right. Now I wanted the page that told the bank exactly what it had to do. I put that page at the front of my folder.

Outside, Sabine reached for my sleeve.

"You've made me look like a criminal."

I stepped back.

"I asked where the money went."

"You could have asked at home."

"I did."

She let her hand fall.

In the parking lot, Mara told me the order protected the next step. It did not decide the final division or turn every questioned expense into money we could recover.

"We still have work," she said.

I nodded and counted four steps down from the curb.

Before I reached my car, Leon came across the lot holding a thin folder.

"My lawyer will call yours," he said. "There are invoices I need to correct."