copy that Leo so helpfully provided to my father. Dad signed both of the documents. “This says he owns the rights to your invention forever. In every country, in every possible jurisdiction. He can put his name on it, if he wants. Call it his. It is his.”
“Not so bad as that. There are provisions for me. And every country will see my work.”
I can’t get through to him. He signed this, and I’m going to have to get him out of it.
There’s no one else. Petra’s married and busy. Cash is nineteen. So far, only the three of us—and Leo Morelli—know about the deal. The fewer the better. Caroline can’t find out. My thoughts come in staccato bursts that collide with each other and start breaking down as we pull into the driveway. I’m the first out of the car, taking huge breaths of the crystal clear air.
The front door of the house bursts open. “Dad?” Cash sounds frantic, panicked. Every minute must have eaten at him, if he can’t put on his usual level-headed image.
“It’s both of us,” I call. The wind bites through my coat. “My car is in the city. I’m going to have to hire a tow truck.” Dad climbs out of the driver’s seat.
“I hope you didn’t wait for me to eat.” He heads for the door like this night was a speed bump and not a train wreck.
“Eat?” Cash’s eyes are wide and white in the spill of light from the door. “Nobody could eat. We thought—” He looks away. Can’t bring himself to say what he thought might happen.
Inside, I take off my coat but the heat refuses to get close. A chill has settled over my skin that I can’t shake. “He signed the papers,” I tell Cash, and myself.
Cash groans, despair edging his voice. “Dad, you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t fucking sign anything with a Morelli sitting across the table.”
“He understands the vision.” Dad’s face darkens, eyebrows pulling together. “Nothing untoward happened at the meeting.”
“Dad.” It’s all I can do to keep my voice level. I’d rather scream. “You signed an agreement with Leo Morelli. He’s going to take everything you have. For all I know, he owns your invention now, and you don’t have the rights. You didn’t take a lawyer with you. You didn’t have anyone review the documents. You—” I’m going to cry. If I let a single tear fall, I won’t be able to stop. The contract could have contained anything, and my dad was too enamored with the idea to see. “It was a bad deal. Whatever he said, it was a bad deal.”
Watching him understand what I’m saying is more painful than watching him walk out the door for the meeting. My dad’s face falls, shoulders sagging, and his hands go up to his hair. “We don’t know that. We don’t know it was underhanded. There’s no reason to believe—”
“There’s every reason,” Cash shouts, and our father flinches at the sound. Dad only ever raises his voice to be heard above a particularly noisy invention, and now his only son looks ready to punch him. Cash’s fists open and close at his sides. “There’s every reason to believe they fucked you over. You sat down with a Morelli. I can’t—” A sharp laugh. “I can’t believe you’re standing here right now. The Morellis kill people. That’s what they do.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that. And I know the contract is terrible.”
“I can renegotiate.” Dad’s voice shakes. “He’ll understand. He’s...”
The rest of the sentence fades away. There’s nothing he can say to paint Leo Morelli as a hero. Leo didn’t offer my father a contract out of the goodness of his heart, and he didn’t save me from those men out of some moral obligation. He did it because he wanted to use us both. That’s what he does.
Headlights sweep across the living room and all of us freeze. My heart climbs up into my throat. I want to believe Leo didn’t follow us here, but there are no limits to what he’ll do. Everyone knows that.
I’m already walking to the door to meet him when the knock sounds. “I’m coming,” I say automatically, though if it’s Leo on the other side, then I’ve wasted my manners.
I open the door.
It’s not him.
Richard Joseph, Jr. stands on the front porch, breath crystallizing in the air, an enormous bouquet of flowers in his hands.
“Hey, Haley.” He’s a smooth one, Rick. His hair is a shade