this well,” she said.
“I’ve had worse problems.”
That earned a small smile.
The meeting ended in under an hour.
No drama.
Only process.
At eight the next morning, Dalton was already waiting at the county clerk’s office with coffee and paperwork.
“You’re on time,” he said.
“I don’t miss deadlines.”
We filed the lis pendens.
Stamped.
Recorded.
Then the trust documentation.
Public record.
Permanent.
Dalton handed me the receipt.
“That’s it,” he said. “They’re done.”
The pages weighed almost nothing.
But they carried everything.
“Now we wait,” he said.
