“It is three-fifteen,” she said. “The banks will have the notices before the close of business.”

We sat in silence for a moment.

The rain was beginning to hit the glass of the window, a steady, rhythmic tapping.

I looked down at my hands, noticing a small smudge of blue ink on my index finger.

“How is Victor going to react?” I asked.

“He will likely try to move funds before the banks process the restriction,” Diane said.

“But he will be too late,” I said.

“We hope so,” she said. “But corporate accounts can be tricky. Especially with his level of access.”

There was a light knock on the office door.

Evelyn Price walked in, carrying a black leather briefcase.

Her charcoal suit was immaculate, her grey hair pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck.

“Claire,” she said, nodding to me. “Diane.”

She sat in the chair next to mine.

“Nathan called me,” Evelyn said.

“Did he send the scans?” I asked.

“Yes,” Evelyn said. “They are in my system now. The board has already scheduled an emergency call for four o’clock.”