“That is why we must present this directly to the board,” Margaret said.

“We do not go to the media first.”

“We go to the directors.”

“We show them the footage of Vanessa changing the babies’ records.”

“We show them the signed affidavit.”

“And we tell them that if Grant remains in office by tomorrow afternoon, the trust will execute the liquidation.”

“The board will force him out to save their own fortunes,” I realized.

“They will have no choice,” Margaret said.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small black USB drive.

“I have saved a copy of the footage here.”

“The board is scheduled to meet tomorrow morning at nine for their quarterly review.”

“Grant thinks he is going there to announce his new custody agreement and solidify his control.”

“He does not know we have this.”

I closed my eyes, picturing the board room.

I had sat in that room once, years ago, when Grant’s father was still alive.

It was a cold, windowless space on the fiftieth floor, filled with mahogany and leather.

“I have to be there,” I said.