She leaned across the table, her dark eyes sharp behind her wire-rimmed glasses.

“When the clerk calls the case, Julian’s attorney is going to hand the court a full quitclaim draft,” Martha said.

“He expects you to fight for the house and demand an immediate audit of the contracting books.”

“I kept those books for three years,” I said.

“I know every dollar Julian moved out of the operating account.”

“I know you do,” Martha said, her voice dropping to a measured whisper.

“And today I want you to sit there and give up every single physical claim.”