I turned to my mom. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “He said it was just for emergencies,” she mumbled, wringing her hands.

“And this was an emergency,” Hank cut in. “An emergency opportunity. You think I was going to let three million dollars just walk away?”

My voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. “I still own fifty-one percent. You can’t do anything without my signature.”

“That’s the thing,” Hank said, flipping through the folder with a triumphant smirk. “Turns out, there’s a court finding from two years ago, when you applied for that city grant. Says you weren’t fit for sole financial management of a commercial property. I checked. That finding makes it risky for buyers unless both owners sign off. So, technically, Bison’s lawyers say they’re in the clear. The deal’s already processed.”