“Yes, I see it,” Jonathan said. “No. Do not issue a statement yet.”

“I will handle it.”

He hung up and looked at me.

“The board is calling an emergency meeting for tomorrow morning,” Jonathan said.

“They want me to step aside anyway, to protect the brand.”

He looked defeated, his shoulders slumping.

“Harrison has orchestrated this perfectly,” Jonathan said.

“He has boxed me in.”

I walked over to the window, looking down at the street.

A dark sedan was parked across the street, its headlights off.

A man with a camera was sitting in the front seat, his lens pointed toward my studio windows.

“They are already outside,” I whispered.

Jonathan came to stand beside me, his eyes following my gaze.

He swore under his breath.

“We need to get you and the kids out of here,” he said.

“Where?” I asked. “Where can we go that they won’t find us?”

“My house in Connecticut,” he said. “It is isolated. The security is tight.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “If I flee, it will make me look guilty.”