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I cleared my throat. “He said that to my stepmother. Not me. I can’t get him on the phone.”

“Is there any way for you to get a copy of the sale contract of the house?”

“I have no idea.”

“Okay. You need to try and do that first. I can place a few phone calls if you—”

I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to make things worse.”

He sighed. “I can leave your name out of it.”

“Please, just—do I have a right to sell some of the things in the house to get some money for myself? Because I can’t leave town right now. I need to graduate first.”

“Kid, I know. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. If you can get that sale contract on your hands to make sure your father hasn’t sold the furniture and the possessions inside the house, then you can sell those off yourself.”

I paused. “I can?”

“Yep.”

“Even, like, the silverware and the furniture?”

“All of it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep. Dead serious. Even if he takes you to court and tries to prove that you ‘stole his stuff’ by selling it out from underneath him, the second you prove that he did it to you with the house, a judge is going to throw it out of court. It’ll be seen as neglect, and that won’t shine a good light on him.”

I sighed. “I don’t have proof of that, though.”

“You said he said it to your stepmother, right?”

I nodded. “He did, yes.”

“If you can get him to say it to you, too, or get it written down electronically somewhere, you’re good. You can’t record him without notifying him of the fact that you’re recording. But what he says in emails or text messages…”

“I read you loud and clear.”

“But even so, there are things in that house you’re privy to that aren’t specifically your belongings. Not sculptures and priceless art he might’ve gotten at an auction or anything. But neutral items the entire family uses, like couches, chairs, china. You have a right to that.”

I sighed. “Thank you so much.”

“And before we hang up, I just want to put this out there. If you need me—for anything—it’ll be pro bono work.”

“You don’t have to do—”

“Pro. Bono. Do you hear me?”

I swallowed hard. “I do. Thank you.”

“Keep my number handy. Know you’re not alone in this fight.”

“I will. Thank you, sir.”

“Call me in a few days and let me know how you’re doing. All right?”

I snickered. “Why?”

He paused. “Because I care. And I get the feeling that idea is foreign to you. So let me start teaching you that.”


Tags: Rebel Hart Diamond in the Rough Romance