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Saul Vanderhorst stepped into the light, a jingling sound at his feet—his small pet alligator chained to the floor by his chair.
There were a few other people in the room, just as there had been when I signed the contract. I noticed Maxon, towering over the rest of the bodyguards. He didn’t look at me, but stared at the wall across from him, light from the soft lamp reflecting off his black framed glasses.
And, surprisingly, Grace—Tucker’s assistant—was also there.
I smiled at her but she quickly looked away.
“Please, come, sit,” he purred, gesturing to the chair across from him.
Seeing him so close, I could see the notch in his teeth, the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, and the silver streaks in his hair. There was something familiar about him, a fleeting thought, a flickering ghost of a memory that I couldn’t quite grasp.
The smell of mold permeated my nose as we sat. “I hear you would like to cancel your contract with the Magnolia.”
“Yes,” I nodded, “to activate the clause to release me.”
“I see.” His steepled hands pressed to his lips as he took me in. “Pray, tell me,” he said, gesturing towards the stack of papers on the table. "What makes you think that you have the authority to get out of this contract?"
"I..." I blinked in surprise at the sudden change in tone. Then set my jaw. “Yes, I remember specifically. Olivia said I would have a choice. There was a clasula exire. Terms to release me.”
"Oh really?" Reaching forward, a look of intrigue on his face, he pushed the stack of papers towards me, "I know of no such clause. Would you care to point it out?"
My heart hammered in my chest as I flipped through it to find the paragraph, stating that if I hadn’t chosen a custodian, I could terminate the contract.
I furrowed my eyebrows, re-reading the page where it should be over and over. "But," I muttered, confused, "it was here."
The paper slid from under my fingers and Saul peered down at it, pointing to my initials at the bottom. “Is this your handwriting?”
The anxiousness in my belly climbed upwards and into my throat. "It's been changed. I don't know how. Photoshop maybe?"
He tilted his head to the side, his dark eyes probing mine, "Are you saying that someone in the Magnolia intentionally changed the contract? Somehow placed your signature here?" He licked a finger, then rubbed the ink, smearing it.
"I..." I stared at it, no words coming to me, “I’m—no, of course not."
Then tell me, he pointed to the now smudged initials, “Are these your initials? SD?"
"Yes."
"And is this your handwriting?"
“Yes," I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, "It looks like it."
"And this," He pointed to a clause on the page I'd been scanning, "what does this say?”
"It says that--""
"Read it out loud, Summer. We both want to be clear, don't we?"
I nodded. "Yes." I licked my dry lips, “Upon the participant's initial meeting with their appointed custodian, this contract shall become fully binding and the participant will be obligated to adhere to all contents contained herein.”
"And have you met with any of your custodians?”
"Yes," My voice sounded as weak as I felt.
“More than one, even. Are you a person of your word, Summer?"
"I swear to you, Mr. Vanderhorst. That wasn't there when I signed it."
"Then how did it get there?" he bent in closer, his nostrils quivering. His cold eyes bore into me, a weight on my chest, suffocating.
