“She wasn’t confused about her own bank accounts,” I said.

I opened the envelope and pulled out the single sheet of paper. My mother’s handwriting was shaky but legible.

“This letter was written three days before she passed,” I said, looking directly at Arthur. “She realized that funds were being diverted from the primary endowment.”

“She specifically mentions Hartline, though she didn’t know then who owned it.”

I placed the letter on the table and slid it toward Marcus Reid. Marcus took it, his reading glasses sliding down his nose as he scanned the lines.

“She writes here that she discovered unauthorized digital access to the main trust,” Marcus read aloud. He looked up at the board. “She requested a full internal review, but she died before the firm could begin.”

Grant’s face flushed a deep red. “This is absurd,” Grant said. “My mother-in-law was on heavy medication during those final weeks.”

“She was seeing things that weren’t there.” He looked at the board members, his hands open in appeal. “Are we really going to stall our entire digital transition because of the delusions of a dying woman?”