My father's voice on the phone had disappeared, but the echo of his desperation lingered. His offer dangled before me like bait in a trap—my mother's company shares in exchange for her jade bracelet. Too good to be true.
I placed the bracelet back in its velvet box and snapped it shut. Something wasn't adding up. Harold Shaw never gave anything away without a scheme behind it.
My phone buzzed again. Another text from my father:
*The offer is genuine. Think about it. Those shares would make you sole owner of your mother's legacy.*
I typed back immediately:
*How did you get out of detention so quickly?*
Three dots appeared, disappeared, then reappeared.
*I had help from friends in high places.*
Friends in high places. That could only mean one person—Alistair. He still had connections that could make legal problems vanish. The revelation made my blood boil. Even now, he was helping my father, probably to ease his own guilt.
My phone rang again. My father, calling back.
