The paperwork listed only Cascade Private Holdings LLC as the investor.
Cascade Private Holdings was me. Just me. A 32-year-old woman whose own mother thought she wasn’t courtroom material.
I called Daniel Chin.
He answered on the first ring. “I saw your message,” he said without preamble. “You want to pull the Morrison funding. Can I ask why?”
“Conflict of interest,” I said simply. “They’re representing someone in litigation that affects me personally. I can’t remain invested.”
“Understood.” I heard typing in the background. “The partnership agreement has a ninety-day termination clause with thirty days’ written notice. However, there’s also a breach provision if they’re taking actions directly adverse to investor interests.”
“This qualifies,” I said.
“Then we can trigger immediate withdrawal under Section 4.3. They’ll have to return the principal within ten business days. Do you want me to file the notice tonight?”
I thought about my mother’s voice on the phone. Very elite firm. You just look desperate.
“Yes,” I said. “Tonight. And Daniel, make sure the notice goes to Richard Morrison personally. I want him to know it’s coming before the hearing on Monday.”
“Consider it done. He’ll have it by morning.”
I hung up and sat in the growing darkness, watching the city lights flicker on below.
Somewhere across town, my parents were probably having dinner, confident in their legal strategy, secure in their belief that they had successfully managed me out of the way.
They had no idea what was about to happen.
Saturday morning, I received a forwarded email from Daniel.
Richard Morrison had responded to the withdrawal notice at 6:47 a.m., which meant he had been awake most of the night.
The email was professional, but barely controlled panic flickered between every line.
“This is highly irregular timing,” he had written. “We’re in the middle of major case preparations. A withdrawal of this magnitude will require significant restructuring. Can we discuss this matter before proceeding?”
Daniel had responded with pure corporate ice: “The withdrawal is non-negotiable. Please confirm receipt and compliance timeline.”
By Saturday afternoon, my phone rang. Unknown number.
I let it go to voicemail.
“Ms. Anderson, this is Richard Morrison from Morrison and Associates. I’m hoping we can discuss the recent notice from Cascade Holdings. I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding that we can resolve quickly. Please call me back at your earliest convenience.”
I deleted the voicemail.
Sunday morning, he called again. This time, I answered.
“Mr. Morrison,” I said pleasantly.
“Ms. Anderson, thank you for taking my call.” He sounded relieved and stressed in equal measure. “I’m hoping we can discuss this withdrawal notice. The timing is quite challenging for the firm.”
“I understand,” I said. “Business decisions can be complicated.”