Vanessa sat to his right, a leather-bound folder open in front of her.

The air in the room smelled of expensive cologne, paper, and cold air conditioning.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, gray rain streaks cut across the metropolitan skyline.

“This is a private board meeting,” Grant said, his voice dropping an octave.

He did not look at my face.

He looked at my hospital wristband, which still clung to my skin under my sleeve.

“Security is already on their way,” Vanessa said, reaching for her desk phone.

Her acrylic nails made a sharp clicking sound against the plastic receiver.

“Tell them to bring backup,” Margaret said, stepping past me into the room.

She threw a thick leather portfolio onto the center of the polished table.

It slid across the dark wood, stopping inches from an elderly board member’s coffee cup.

“What is the meaning of this, Margaret?” the elderly man asked, squinting through his spectacles.

“Mr. Vance, your Chairman is currently committing grand larceny,” Margaret said.

The room remained dead silent.

I took a step forward, my legs still slightly shaky from the hospital bed.