“Clara,” his voice sounded hollow, stripped of the usual arrogance. “Is it true?”

“If you’re asking about your mother’s accounts, yes,” I said. “It’s over, Garrett.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

I could hear the faint sound of wind rushing past a window in the background.

“She left me here,” he said quietly. “She didn’t even tell me she was packing her bags.”

“She only ever cared about herself,” I said.

“Where are you?” he asked.

“Heading to the downtown office,” I said. “We have the emergency board meeting in an hour.”

“I’m already here,” Garrett said. “I’m sitting in your lobby.”

I frowned, looking at Marcus, who shrugged.

“Why are you there, Garrett?” I asked.

“I have the papers,” he said. “The ones your attorney sent over last week.”

My chest tightened slightly.

“The paternity acknowledgment?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “And the custody agreement.”

“We will be there in ten minutes,” I said.

I hung up the phone and leaned forward.

“Step on it,” I told the driver.

The SUV accelerated, weaving through the late-night city traffic.