The thin man handed them over, his fingers trembling. Arla began to read, her face focused and calm.
“Rhavor has maintained the farm for the past year,” Vera added coolly. “Increased the value. Paid the mortgage while your daughter was off ‘finding herself.’”
“He’d better have,” the smaller man snapped. “Otherwise, he would have been tossed out months ago.”
Ronda’s father stepped into the light. “There are two conditions. Either he repays the deposit immediately—every cent—or Ronda resumes residence. Tonight.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd.
“We’ve given him leeway for too long. We are executing this tonight. I have a solicitor present.”
“So my daughter will be staying here from now on,” he added, his eyes landing on Rhavor with a sneer.
“That’s particularly nasty,” Julian muttered, his voice sharp with disgust.
Was this the play? To force her way back into his bed through legal maneuvering?
Fury coiled cold and tight in Sylvie’s stomach.
“If she wants to stay,” Rhavor said stiffly, a jagged edge of pain in his voice that made Sylvie want to hit someone, “I’ll make space. There’s room in the barn large enough—”
“No, dear,” Ronda said sweetly, her voice dripping with artificial honey. “I’m staying with you. In the house. In the bedroom.”
Sylvie’s stomach dropped through the floor.
“Find another backyard for your toys,” Julian snapped.
“I’m not speaking to livestock,” Ronda snarled. “You belong in a pasture.”
Julian adjusted his vest, unfazed. “Better on a pasture than in those tragic shoes, dear. They’re so last season.”
“The only person out of place here is you,” Vera said. “It’s a shame your ego won’t let you see it.”
Throughout the bickering, Arla had been silent, her eyes scanning the documents with unnerving precision.
“Before you continue,” Arla said, her voice cutting through the noise like a blade, “there is a clause.”
All heads turned.
“Rhavor may remain on the farm as long as he resides here with a human.”
“Well, that obviously means me,” Ronda snapped, stepping forward.
“I see no specific name,” Arla replied evenly, a slow, predatory smile spreading across her face. “It saysa human. Indefinite article. As long as a human lives here with him, the ownership is protected.”
Ronda’s face twisted. “Daddy! Do something!”
Her father glared at the solicitor, who snatched the papers back and reread the paragraph.
“How did you notice that so quickly?” he asked Arla, his voice shaking.
“Because I wrote it,” she replied, her eyes flashing. “We had concerns at the time. It was the only way to protect him when he was being blind.”
Rhavor went very still. His eyes drifted to Sylvie.
“Well,” the solicitor said slowly, sweating now, “that is indeed the literal interpretation. However, if no human resides here tonight, ownership reverts.”
“You—,” Myrtle hissed. “You know I could turn you into a big slimy—”
