In court, my stepmother swore and said, “She can’t handle this. She needs a guardian.” I remained calm. The judge took off her glasses and said, “You really don’t know who she is?” Her lawyer turned pale. My stepmother was speechless…

Like assets hanging from a butcher’s hook.

Judge Maren glanced down at the file in front of her. “Miss Vale, are you represented by counsel today?”

“No, Your Honor.”

A quiet murmur swept through the courtroom gallery.

Vivian’s lips curved slightly.

She thought this was the ending she had scripted. The grieving stepdaughter, emotionally unstable, stripped of control. Vivian would become guardian of my finances, trustee of my shares, public voice of my father’s company. Mason would finally receive the board seat he had begged for ever since he learned how to spell the word inheritance.

“You understand how serious these proceedings are?” the judge asked me.

“Yes.”

“And you intentionally chose to appear alone?”