Chapter 14: Lawyers in the Library
Daniel Okafor's office was not what Jalen had expected. He had pictured something grand and cold, all glass and tall leather chairs, the way offices looked on television. Instead, the room they were shown into was a library: wooden shelves full of books, a long table scarred by years of use, and a window that let in the soft Savannah light. It smelled of paper and coffee, and it felt, to Jalen's surprise, like a place where a person could think.
Daniel Okafor was forty-four, calm in the way Grace was calm, and he stood when they came in. He shook Grace's hand, and then Jalen's, as if Jalen were a person whose handshake mattered.
"Mrs. Carter," he said, "before we talk about money or papers, I want you to know how I work. I am taking this case without a fee for now, because a promise made in front of witnesses should not depend on whether a family can afford a lawyer. If we reach a settlement, the trust will cover my costs fairly. If we do not, you will not owe me for this conversation."
"Let us lay out what happened, step by step," he said. "Mr. Cross forgot the combination to his safe. Specialists tried for six days and could not open it. In his study, before witnesses, he offered two hundred million dollars to anyone who could open it. Mr. Marcus Bell recorded that offer on his phone. Your son, Jalen, then opened the safe in sixty seconds, using numbers he had remembered from seeing Mr. Cross open it once before."
Daniel smiled. "Good. Now, the law does not always move as fast as a story does. Mr. Cross's lawyers may say the offer was a joke, or a test, or that a child cannot accept such an offer. We will answer each of those points, calmly, and with evidence. We have witnesses. We have the recording. We have the fact that the safe was opened, in front of those witnesses, after the offer was made."
Grace leaned forward. "Mr. Okafor," she said, "I do not want a fight that turns my son into a spectacle. I want what is fair, and I want it settled in a way that protects him. He is eleven. He should not carry a fortune, and he should not carry a feud."
"I agree entirely," Daniel said. "And that is why I will not ask for a lump sum paid to a child, or for anything that puts Jalen in danger or in the headlines for years. What we will propose is a structured settlement. A trust for Jalen's education, managed by trustees, not by a child. A modest house for you both, so you are not at the mercy of a landlord. Your debts cleared, so you start clean. And the remainder used to found a foundation that helps children like Jalen — children of domestic workers — go to school and learn."
"And Mr. Cross?" she asked. "Will he agree?"
"He has his own lawyers," Daniel said honestly. "He may argue, and he may delay. But he also has his reputation, and he has Mr. Bell's recording, and he has, I believe, a conscience that has been woken up. A settlement that is generous but structured, that does good in public, is something a man in his position can sign with dignity. That matters. We want him to sign because it is right, not only because he is cornered."
"Will I have to go to court, sir?" Jalen asked. "And talk in front of a lot of people?"
"Not if I can help it," Daniel said. "Most cases like this settle at a table, like this one, with papers and signatures, not in a courtroom. And if you ever do have to speak, your mother will be beside you, and I will be beside you, and we will prepare together, so you are never surprised."
Daniel closed the folder and stood. "One more thing," he said. "From now on, if anyone — a reporter, a stranger, a man who says he is a friend of Mr. Cross — asks you about the safe, or the money, or the combination, you say one sentence: 'Please speak to our lawyer.' You do not argue, you do not explain, you do not try to be polite by answering. That sentence protects you."
"Please speak to our lawyer," Jalen repeated, trying the words out. They felt sturdy, like a door with a good lock.
Daniel walked them to the door. Outside, the Savannah afternoon was warm, and the street smelled of rain that had not yet fallen. As they walked to the bus stop, Grace put her arm around Jalen's shoulders, and Jalen thought that a library, of all places, had been where their future first began to look orderly — not grand, not frightening, but laid out plainly on a table, step by step, like a list of numbers that, once written down, could finally be trusted.