Chapter 2: The Attorney’s Revelation
The family attorney, Arthur Penhaligon, stepped out from the shadows of the crowd. He was a man who had seen everything, but as he moved closer, his pace slowed. He stared at the box, then at the envelope.
Eleanor reached out to snatch it, her face pale. "It’s nonsense. A child’s game. Leave it."
Arthur didn't listen. He stepped between Eleanor and the box. He didn't touch it at first; he simply looked at the handwriting. It was Julian’s script—jagged, rushed, but unmistakable. He had seen that hand write thousands of contracts, but never with this kind of raw, desperate energy.
"That signature..." Arthur whispered, his eyes widening. He looked at the wax seal—the private seal of Julian’s father, the one that had been lost for thirty years.
"Mr. Penhaligon," Eleanor warned, her voice trembling. "This is a private matter. We have guests."
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"The guests are witnessing the truth, Eleanor," Arthur said, his voice cold. He carefully lifted the envelope, the paper heavy and brittle. He didn't open it. He didn't have to. He looked at the front, then at the back.
He didn't look at the widow. He looked toward the heavy oak doors of the ballroom, which had been left slightly ajar to let in the cool evening air.
