It was dated the week before our wedding, signed by her father, Thomas.

It described an agreement to transfer a small but controlling voting interest in his manufacturing firm to an entity called Eastgate Advisory if the marriage proceeded.

The price was suspiciously low.

“Daddy never told me about this,” Meredith said.

Helen took the page.

“He wouldn’t have agreed to give away control.

He was trying to save the plant, not surrender it.”

I stared at the name Eastgate Advisory.