I did not flinch.

I kept my hands folded in front of my apron, just as I had done for months.

“It was never yours, Miranda,” I said quietly.

“My grandfather built the foundation of this company alongside Arthur.”

“Your grandfather was a partner in name only,” Miranda spat.

“He was a charity case Arthur took pity on.”

Elias Cross stepped forward, his cane clicking against the hardwood floor.

His posture was straight, his chin held high.

“Do not speak of my past as charity, Miranda,” Elias said.

“I put my own sweat and capital into the Sterling foundation.”

“You stole the deeds while Arthur lay dying in the hospital.”

Miranda laughed, a high-pitched, desperate sound that lacked any real mirth.

“This is a joke,” she said, looking at Julian.

“Julian, turn that phone off.”

“Do you really believe this theater?” she asked him.

Julian did not lower the device.

“I want to hear what Mr. Bennett has to say, Mother,” Julian said.

“There is nothing to hear!” Miranda shouted.

She slammed both palms down on the desk.

“These documents are clever forgeries,” she said.