I looked at the gold clip of the pen lying across his palm, then at the deep lines carved into his forehead.

“I accept your personal apology, Dad,” I said.

He let out a long, shaky breath, his shoulders dropping two inches as he closed his watch case.

“Thank you, sweetheart.

Because Derek… Derek is in terrible shape with his commercial lenders.

The bank is foreclosing on his business assets next Friday unless he comes up with forty thousand dollars.”

“I know about his debt,” I said.

“If you could sign the authorization to release part of your grandmother’s remaining estate trust,” Arthur whispered, checking the time on his watch again.