He looked up at me, his eyes sharp and calculating, even in the middle of the chaos.

“And you have your father’s stubbornness, Clara.”

“I did what I had to do to protect them,” I said.

“We need to talk,” Grandfather Bradford said, looking around the emptying room.

Before I could answer, the glass door to the side terrace opened.

A young man in a crumpled suit, holding a tablet, ran toward Grandfather Bradford.

“Sir, the trading desk in Chicago just called,” the young man said, his voice trembling.

“Our stock is in freefall.”

The old man did not flinch, but his grip on his cane tightened further.

“How bad is it?” Grandfather Bradford asked.

“The board is calling an emergency meeting for tomorrow morning,” the young man replied.

Garrett stepped forward, looking at his grandfather.

“I should go with you,” Garrett said.

Grandfather Bradford looked at him, then back at me and the boys.

“No,” the old man said.

“You stay here and face what you’ve ignored.”

He turned to his assistant.

“Tell the board I will be in Chicago by midnight.”