Page 117 of Stuck with my Mechanic Daddies

I clenched my hands in my lap, waiting.

Finally, he exhaled and leaned back. “This is significant.”

Hope sparked in my chest. “So you think we can use it?”

“Oh, absolutely.” He tapped a finger against the disputed deed. “This proves your uncle had a legal and binding agreement regarding Page Turners. If someone tampered with these records after his death, that's fraud. A serious offense.”

I let out a shaky breath, my pulse quickening. “So what happens next?”

“I'll need to review all the documents carefully. And then we file a motion with the court to challenge Hank Lawson’s claim officially,” he said, handing me back my folder and placing his copy in the first drawer of his desk. “But I think this is solid evidence, Aurora. It strengthens your position considerably.”

I nodded, my fingers gripping the armrests of my chair. For the first time, I actually had a chance.

Thomas studied me for a moment, then softened slightly. “You're doing the right thing. I knew your uncle for years—he would’ve wanted someone to fight for this place.”

Emotion tightened in my throat, but I swallowed it down. “Thank you.”

He gave me a small nod and stood, signaling the meeting was over. “I'll be in touch as soon as possible.”

I rose, shaking his hand before making my way outside.

The air was brisk, but I finally felt like I could breathe again.

It was working. I wasn’t losing Page Turners.

I wasn’t losing my uncle’s legacy.

I wasn’t.

My phone rang, and I frowned, digging it out of my coat pocket.

Daniel Parker.

For a second, relief flooded me. Finally. It had been days since I’d last spoken to them, but maybe they were checking in.

Maybe I could explain.

I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

“Aurora.” My boss’s voice was brisk, professional. “I’m calling with an update regarding your position.”

Something in my stomach twisted. “Of course. I?—”

“Your employment with us is terminated.”

The words hit like a punch to the ribs.

I stopped walking. “What?”

“We’ve been following the situation in Medford, and quite frankly, we can’t afford the bad press of an employee involved in a legal dispute. The company has a reputation to uphold.”

My head spun. “But this isn’t… I didn’t…”

“I understand this is disappointing,” he said, voice clipped, “but I also need to be honest with you. Even without the legal issues, it’s clear you won’t be returning any time soon. We need someone reliable, and you’ve been distracted.”

The finality in his tone made my stomach drop.

I had worked years for this job. Sacrificed weekends. Put in extra hours. Jumped through every hoop.

---