Paying three hundred thousand dollars of debt before being ordered out of the house
Fletcher reached for the heavy legal pad on his desk, his gold pen hovering over the yellow lined paper before he let it drop. He looked at Evelyn, then at Arthur, who kept both hands buried deep in his trousers pockets, staring down at the carpet.
The air in the office was thick with the scent of old paper and the faint, bitter smell of black coffee that had gone cold in a ceramic mug on the sideboard.
“There is no alternative path,” Fletcher said, his voice flat. “If Mrs. Mitchell files the involuntary bankruptcy petition tomorrow morning, the court will look back at every transaction over the last six months, including the transfer of the Elmwood property to the trust.”
David Vance took off his wire-rimmed glasses and began cleaning them with his blue silk cloth. He did not look up from his work as he spoke, his voice carrying the slow, deliberate rhythm of a man who dealt only in verifiable facts.
