He had used my mother’s charity to buy his way into Vance’s next big development project.

Sloane was the bridge between them.

“So the board thinks they are approving a routine land sale to save the foundation,” I said.

“When in reality, they are funding Graham and Vance’s private development,” Daniel said.

“We have to present this to them,” I said. “All of it.”

“It’s risky,” Rachel said, leaning back in her chair. “If you walk into that boardroom and fail to convince them, they will vote to ratify the transfer. Once they vote, it becomes much harder to undo, even with a lawsuit.”

“I have my mother’s letter,” I said.

I reached into my bag and pulled out the sealed envelope I had found in her safe deposit box.

The paper was thick, cream-colored, with the foundation’s original letterhead.

“She wrote this three weeks before she died,” I said. “She knew what Graham was doing. She explicitly revoked any authority he had over her estate.”

Rachel took the envelope, sliding her finger under the seal.

She read the contents in silence, her expression tightening with every line.