Chapter 10: The Condition
Petra Holt returned to the table, sat down, and waited.
Gerald presented the counter.
She listened without interrupting, making small notes on a legal pad.
When he finished, she reviewed her notes.
"Twelve months is aggressive," she said.
"It's half the original timeline," Gerald said.
"The funds have been held for up to eighteen months already."
"My client will need to discuss the repayment schedule."
"Of course."
"The acknowledgment regarding Saturday's incident." She paused.
"My client will not sign a document admitting deliberate wrongdoing.
That creates liability."
"It's not a legal document," Gerald said.
"It's a personal letter.
Written to Mrs.
Hazel Caldwell.
Acknowledging that the seating incident was planned and expressing genuine regret."
"A personal letter can still be used—"
"Ms.
Holt." I spoke quietly.
"My wife has never asked for anything from your client.
Not an apology, not acknowledgment, not a single word.
She sat at that table on Saturday night and held herself together because that is what she does.
She has been doing it for three years." I paused.
"I am asking for a letter.
Not for a court.
For her.
She deserves to hold something in her hands that says what happened was real and it was wrong."
Petra looked at me.
Something shifted slightly in her expression — not softness exactly, but recognition.
"I'll recommend she write it," she said.
"I can't guarantee she will."
"I understand."
"And the final condition?" She looked at her notes.
"Mr.
Marsh described it as non-negotiable but didn't specify the terms."
Gerald looked at me.
"Garnet," I said.
"Your client's husband.
He is to be given full, transparent access to every account, every LLC, every financial structure that bears his name or uses his credentials.
Going forward.
No exceptions." I kept my voice level.
"If your client wishes to remain married to my son, she will not operate any financial structure that he does not know about and has not explicitly agreed to."
Petra was quiet for a moment.
"That's a condition of the marriage," she said.
"It's a condition of the agreement," I said.
"Your client can decline it.
But if she declines it, we have nothing further to discuss, and I will make my own decisions about the recordings and the documents."
Another silence.
"I'll take it to her," Petra said.
She left.
Gerald and I sat in the quiet office.
Dennis poured himself more water.
"You know she may walk away," Gerald said.
"I know."
"If she does, and this goes to a full dispute—"
"Then it goes to a full dispute." I looked at the window.
"But I don't think she'll walk away.
She retained a solicitor before the honeymoon was over.
That's not someone who wants a fight.
That's someone who wants a settlement."
Gerald nodded slowly.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Garnet.
*How did it go?*
I typed back: *Still in progress.
How is your mother?*
A pause.
Then: *She's okay.
We talked for a long time.
She made me lunch.*
I looked at that for a moment.
*Good,* I typed.
*Stay with her until I'm back.*
Petra returned eighteen minutes later.
She sat down.
She placed a single sheet of paper on the table — her own notes, with several items circled.
"My client will agree to twelve months," she said.
"She will write the letter to Mrs.
Caldwell.
She accepts the transparency condition regarding financial accounts." She paused.
"In exchange, she asks for one thing not previously discussed."
"What is it?" Gerald said.
Petra looked at me directly.
"She wants to know that you will give the marriage a fair chance," she said.
"Not an endorsement.
Not forgiveness.
Just — that you won't work against it."
I looked at her.
"She loves him," Petra said.
"Whatever else is true, she asked me to tell you that."
The room was very quiet.
"Tell your client," I said slowly, "that what happens between her and my son is between them.
I will not interfere in their marriage." I paused.
"But I will not pretend that Saturday didn't happen.
And I will not stop protecting my wife."
Petra nodded.
"That's acceptable."
She extended her hand.
I shook it.
Outside Gerald's office, the afternoon had gone grey and quiet.
Dennis walked to his car.
Gerald locked up.
I stood on the pavement for a moment before calling Hazel.
She answered on the first ring.
"Well?" she said.
"It's done," I said.
"Or the beginning of done."
"Is Garnet still there?"
"He should be."
"He is.
He's been helping me with the garden." A pause.
"Walter.
Is she going to write the letter?"
"Her solicitor said she would recommend it."
Hazel was quiet for a moment.
"I don't need it to be perfect," she said.
"I just need it to be real."
"I know," I said.
"I told them that."
"Come home," she said.
"I'm on my way."
I got into the car.
The street was quiet.
A few leaves moved along the pavement in the wind.
I thought about Amber in a hotel room, calling a solicitor on her wedding night.
I thought about Garnet reading the second document with his hands going still.
I thought about Hazel saying *he's still our son* in the dark car on the motorway.
I thought about the chair with the glue on it, and the moment I switched them, and how I had believed at the time that was the whole plan.
It hadn't been the whole plan.
May you like
It had only been the beginning of understanding what the plan needed to be.
I pulled out of the parking space and drove home.
