Chapter 36 · The Second Name in the Box

"Two signatures," the notary said, "or the box doesn't open."

I still had the torn appendix in my fist. The paper was warm from my palm, which was stupid, because the pump room was forty degrees and my breath was fogging every word I threw at Torin two minutes ago.

"You already signed," I said. "You gave it away. That's done."

"Bylaws don't care what I want." The notary — gray suit, no coat, like the cold didn't touch people who billed by the hour — tapped the safe bolted into the concrete wall. "Trust conveyance requires the original grantor's signature and any co-signatory named on the founding instrument. You transferred the building. You didn't unlock what's proving you had the right to."

Torin's jaw worked. I watched it, because watching his jaw was easier than watching his eyes, which had gone somewhere I didn't like — somewhere doing math.

"Whose name," he said, "is on the founding instrument."

The notary turned the dial. Three tries.