Chapter 6: The Other Signature
"What do you mean he isn't acting alone?" I asked.
Grace Ellison's voice was measured, the kind of calm that comes from delivering bad news regularly.
"The filing has two supporting signatures.
Daniel Calloway is the named petitioner.
But the second signature belongs to a Renata Voss.
Does that name mean anything to you?"
I stared through the windshield at Daniel's building.
"Renata Voss was Mike's first business partner," I said slowly.
"They dissolved the partnership before he started the company with Harold.
There was a dispute.
Mike never talked about it in detail."
"The dispute involved a revenue-sharing agreement that Mike terminated.
Ms.
Voss claimed she was owed a percentage of the company's future earnings.
That claim was settled out of court, but she signed a non-disclosure agreement as part of the settlement."
"So why is she signing anything related to Mia?"
"That's the right question." Papers shuffled on Grace's end.
"The NDA covered the original business dispute.
It did not, apparently, cover her from participating in a separate probate action.
She has submitted a statement supporting Daniel's challenge.
In it, she claims that Mike confided in her — during the period of their partnership — that he had doubts about his own ability to father children."
"That's not true."
"I believe you.
But it's a signed statement, and it gives Daniel's filing a second voice." Grace paused.
"Mrs.
Calloway, I want to be direct with you.
This challenge is not going to disappear on its own.
Daniel has legal standing as a family member.
Renata has a statement on record.
If you don't respond formally before the hearing, the court will proceed without your input."
"When is the hearing?"
"Seventeen days."
I looked at my phone's clock without really seeing it.
Seventeen days.
"What do I need to do?"
"First, we file a formal response contesting the challenge.
Second, we gather evidence.
Mike's oncologist's testimony will be important — you mentioned you'd already contacted him.
Third—" she paused again, "—I'd like you to come in tomorrow morning and bring everything Harold gave you last night.
Including the letter."
"The letter is personal."
"I understand.
But if it contains a direct statement from Mike about Mia's paternity, it may be the strongest piece of evidence we have.
A court can treat a letter written in anticipation of d*ath as a form of testimony." Her voice softened slightly.
"You don't have to decide now.
But bring it and let me look at it."
I said I would.
We arranged a time.
I hung up.
I sat in the car outside Daniel's building for another minute.
Upstairs, behind one of those windows, he was probably already on the phone with Renata.
I drove home.
Carol was in the front garden with Mia when I pulled up.
Mia was crouched over something in the grass — a beetle, probably, or a worm.
She collected small creatures with great seriousness.
"Mommy!" She ran to me with her arms out.
I picked her up and held on a beat longer than usual.
"Did you find something?" I asked into her hair.
"A very big bug.
Carol said it was a beetle but I think it was a crab."
"In the garden?"
"A land crab."
"Absolutely," I said.
"Very common in this neighborhood."
Carol caught my eye over Mia's shoulder.
She read something in my face.
"Coffee?" she said.
"Please."
We sat at Carol's kitchen table while Mia drew the land crab in a notebook.
Carol was sixty-one, a retired nurse, the kind of woman who asked one good question and then waited.
"Bad morning?" she said.
"Someone is trying to legally challenge whether Mia is Mike's daughter."
Carol set her mug down.
"His brother," I said.
"And a woman from his past I barely knew."
"On what grounds?"
"They're claiming Mike couldn't have fathered her.
Medical grounds."
Carol looked at Mia, who was adding legs to her drawing with great concentration.
"That's not true."
"No."
"Do you have a lawyer?"
"I do now."
Carol nodded slowly.
"Good." She refilled my coffee without asking.
"What do you need from me?"
"I may need you to watch Mia more than usual over the next few weeks."
"Done." She said it before I finished the sentence.
I looked at Mia's drawing.
The land crab now had eight legs and what appeared to be a small hat.
"She looks so much like him," I said quietly.
Carol reached across the table and put her hand over mine.
She didn't say anything.
She didn't need to.
My phone buzzed.
A text from a number I now recognized as Daniel's.
*I think we should talk again.
Properly.
There may be a way to resolve this without the hearing.*
May you like
I read it twice.
Then I forwarded it directly to Grace.
