“It proves that Elias contributed the initial capital for the entire North Side development.”

“Miranda tried to burn it, but I took it before I left for Europe.”

My grandfather walked down to stand beside me.

He touched the cover of the ledger, his fingers tracing the faded gold lettering.

“You kept it,” Elias whispered.

“I did,” Thomas said. “I was too afraid to use it then, Elias. I apologize.”

“Apology accepted,” my grandfather said. “But we have work to do.”

Julian looked at his watch.

“The press is waiting in the ballroom,” Julian said. “They have been there for an hour.”

“Are we ready?” I asked.

“We are,” Julian said, looking at me. “It is time to end the lies.”

We walked down the long corridor toward the grand ballroom.

The sound of voices and rustling paper grew louder as we approached the double doors.

Security guards stood outside, keeping the crowd back.

When the doors were opened, the noise hit us like a wave.

Reporters from every major news network in Chicago were crowded inside.

The room was filled with the bright, harsh glare of television lights.