Chapter 10: The Board, Set
My dad moved quickly after that.
Within four days, he had a full written statement from his former business partner — the one Richard had flagged — confirming that the partnership had ended by mutual agreement, with documentation, signed and notarized.
He forwarded it to his lawyer and copied me on the email with a single line: *In case it's ever needed.*
He also had the unknown-number text traced.
It came back to a prepaid phone purchased in the city where Richard lived.
Not proof enough for a courtroom, but enough for a paper trail.
"He doesn't know we have any of this," Dad told me on the phone.
"He thinks he's holding cards.
He doesn't know we've been counting the deck."
The housing office situation resolved itself quietly.
Someone — I never found out who — had apparently pushed back on Richard's request.
The reassignment never came through.
Chloe got a brief, formal email saying her room assignment was unchanged.
She showed it to me without comment.
But she exhaled when she read it, the kind of exhale that had been waiting a long time.
Two weeks later, Richard came to campus.
He didn't announce it.
Chloe found out when he appeared outside our building on a Tuesday afternoon, standing beside a car she didn't recognize, in a coat that was too formal for the weather.
She texted me from the path: *He's here.*
I texted my dad.
*I know,* he wrote back.
*I'm already here too.*
I stopped walking.
*What?*
*Parking lot B.
I've been here since this morning.
I had a feeling about this week.*
I stood outside the building and looked around.
I couldn't see him.
But I knew he was there — patient, unhurried, watching.
I went inside and found Chloe in the lobby.
"Did he say what he wants?" I asked.
"He wants to talk.
He says it's just a conversation." She looked pale.
"He always says that."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
She hesitated.
"He'll use it.
He'll say I can't handle things on my own."
"Let him say it."
She looked at me.
Then she nodded.
We walked out together.
Richard saw us coming.
His expression shifted when he saw me — a small recalibration, the same one I'd seen at the dinner.
He smiled.
"I was hoping to speak with my daughter privately."
"She asked me to be here," I said.
"Did she." It wasn't a question.
"Dad," Chloe said.
"Whatever you want to say, you can say it."
He looked between us.
Then he reached into his coat and produced an envelope, which he held out to Chloe.
"Your tuition for next semester is in there.
Conditional." He said the word lightly, like it was reasonable.
"You come home for the summer.
You take the internship I've arranged.
And you end this — " a glance at me — "particular friendship."
Chloe didn't take the envelope.
"And if I don't?" she said.
"Then you fund the rest of this yourself." He said it gently.
Warmly, almost.
"I'm not angry, sweetheart.
I'm just clarifying the terms."
The lobby door opened behind us.
My father walked out.
He was wearing a clean jacket, good shoes, nothing remarkable.
He came to stand beside me without any urgency, like he'd simply been passing by.
Richard looked at him.
May you like
For the first time since I'd met him, Richard went completely still.
"I think," my dad said pleasantly, "we should talk about those terms."
