Wendy Vance let out a quiet, amused chuckle, entirely unmoved by her son’s tears or my terror.

“You didn’t just flee, son,” she said.

“Let us be accurate.

You walked away from a multi-million-dollar inheritance trust.

A trust that contains a very specific provision, one you seem to have conveniently forgotten.” She let the words hang in the air.

“Any biological heir born to a primary Vance lineage must be registered to the estate board within the first week of life.”

And she set a thick, leather-bound folder down on the tray table at the foot of my bed, with the quiet finality of a woman laying down a winning card.