I ignored him and turned the page.
That’s when I saw the documents.
Legal papers.
Bank records.
Property transfers.
Account statements.
At first, I flipped through them too quickly to understand what I was looking at.
Then certain words started repeating over and over.
Cleared.
Settled.
Transferred.
I slowed.
Every debt was gone.
Every account balanced.
Every legal issue resolved.
And then I reached the final page.
Three names.
The girls.
Everything he owned—every property, every account, every remaining asset—had been transferred into their names.
I looked up sharply.
“What is this?”
“I fixed it,” he said quietly.
“All of it?”
He nodded once.
I stared at him in disbelief.
It took everything in me not to laugh bitterly.
Fifteen years too late.
“You think money fixes this?” I asked coldly.
“No.”
