He didn’t fight. He just stared at the floor, his expensive leather shoes squeaking on the tile.

Paul Raskin stood up and gathered his papers into his briefcase.

“It’s over, Ethan,” Paul said.

“The board will have to appoint an interim CEO by tonight.”

“They will probably call you to consult,” Paul added.

“Tell them I’m unavailable,” Ethan said.

He turned to me.

His face looked lighter than it had in years, though the dark circles under his eyes remained.

“Let’s go, Evelyn,” Ethan said.

“How is she?” he asked as we walked toward the private elevator.

“She was resting when I left,” I said.

“Dr. Rao said the next twelve hours are critical.”

“And Lauren?” Ethan asked.

“She’s with the nurse in the waiting room,” I said. “She’s been drawing pictures.”

Ethan nodded, his throat moving as he swallowed.

We stepped into the elevator, and the doors slid shut, cutting off the noise of the executive suite.

The ride down to the lobby was silent.

I looked at Ethan’s hands.

They were bare, his knuckles red from the Chicago cold.