PART 2: Three weeks after my midnight-blue Versace dress vanished from my closet

announced calmly, “the emergency board meeting scheduled for Monday morning has been moved to this afternoon.”

Grant stared at him in horror.

“You planned this?”

Harold adjusted his glasses.

“No, Mr. Whitmore.”

Then his eyes shifted toward me.

“Your father did.”

The cathedral doors suddenly opened behind us.

Several people entered at once.

Board members.

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