Harrison hesitated, then sank back into his high-backed leather chair.

“This is a private meeting of the Voss Holdings board of directors,” Patricia said, looking directly at me.

She did not look nervous; she looked annoyed, as if I were an interruption to her morning schedule.

“You are no longer family, Claire, and you certainly do not hold a seat on this board,” she added.

“She doesn’t need a seat,” Elena said, stepping forward.

Elena placed her heavy briefcase on the table with a loud, deliberate thud.

She unclasped the brass latches, the metallic clicks echoing in the quiet room.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Richard Sterling, the oldest board member, his voice trembling slightly.

“We are here to discuss the thirty-million-dollar deficit in the Voss commercial portfolio,” I said.

I walked to the edge of the table, placing my hands flat on the cold, polished wood.

“And we are here to discuss how my personal assets were used to cover it without my consent,” I added.

Patricia laughed, a short, sharp sound that held no humor.