“You had no authority to read private documents.”
“Samuel handed them to me.”
Derek looked at his uncle.
“You’re embarrassing yourself.”
Samuel’s eyes changed.
The words were familiar.
“I spent almost a year being told I was confused every time I remembered something you needed me to forget.”
“That is not what happened.”
“The judge disagrees.”
Derek stepped closer.
Samuel did not step back.
Then the glass doors opened again.
A woman carrying a leather file case entered with another man behind her.
Samuel exhaled.
“My attorney.”
The woman introduced herself as Lena Cho from the Elder Justice Clinic. She handed Derek a copy of the order and explained, without drama, that he was prohibited from removing records, transferring funds, changing locks, or interfering with Samuel’s access while the court reviewed the disputed transactions.
Derek’s face turned red.
“This is my business.”
Lena looked at the document.
“That is one of the questions the court is deciding.”
Derek began talking about improvements he had made. The renovation. The new branding. The luxury products. The clientele he had built.
Samuel listened.
Then he asked one question.
“Where is Evelyn’s chair?”
Derek stopped.
“What?”
“The fourth chair from the old shop. Brass footrest. Green leather. Where is it?”
“I have no idea.”
Samuel looked toward the storage hallway.
A gray-haired stylist raised one hand slowly.
