“Emma,” he said, his eyes darting between Lorna and me.

“What are you doing down here?”

“I think you know what we’re doing, Grant,” I said.

He stepped out of the elevator, dropping the boxes onto the concrete floor.

“The board meeting is starting in ten minutes,” he said, his voice rising.

“You have no business being in this building anymore.”

“I am still a trustee of this foundation,” I said.

“Not for long,” Grant said, stepping closer.

“Arthur has already reviewed the dissolution papers.”

“He agrees that liquidation is the only logical step.”

“You’re lying to him,” Lorna said, stepping in front of me.

“You haven’t shown him the actual financial records.”

“The financial records are proprietary,” Grant said, his eyes narrowing.

“And as Executive Director, I have the authority to manage them as I see fit.”

“Not when those records contain evidence of grand larceny,” a voice called out.

Marcus returned from the loading dock.

Behind him walked two men in dark suits, carrying heavy leather portfolios.

Grant’s face turned a pale shade of gray.

“Who are they?” Grant asked, his voice suddenly small.