I looked toward the Pacific.
“So I can sell?”
“You can sell your ownership interest, subject to the contract terms we discussed. But I want you to understand something.”
“What?”
“Once you sign, this isn’t a threat you can take back during the next family argument.”
“I know.”
“Your mother will call.”
“I know.”
“She will cry.”
“I know.”
“She may tell everyone you made her homeless.”
I watched Grace carefully place a shell on the castle.
“She already told everyone I deserved to lose a vacation I paid for.”
Martin became quiet.
Then he said, “I’ll send the final documents.”
I signed them that evening.
The closing was scheduled for the morning after my family returned.
Not because I wanted some dramatic ambush.
Because that was the earliest date the paperwork, title work, funds, and legal review could be completed.
But fate apparently had a flair for timing.
