“And Elias?” I asked.

“They are saying the board is forcing a vote this afternoon,” she said.

“He asked me to stand by him,” I said.

Sarah let out a short, dry laugh.

“Of course he did,” she said. “He needs a shield.”

“I told him no,” I said.

“Good,” Sarah said. “We have our own clients to worry about. The Boston office is swamped.”

“How many?” I asked.

“Four major clients from Elias’s old roster just called,” she said. “They want to move their portfolios to us.”

I looked out the window as the car merged into the rainy afternoon traffic.

“They are leaving him,” I muttered.

“They are leaving a sinking ship,” Sarah said. “We need to be ready to catch them.”

“I’ll be there in two hours,” I said.

I hung up the phone and stared at the dark screen.

The car moved slowly through the gridlock.

I looked at my hands, resting in my lap.

They were steady.

For years, I had felt like a ghost in my own life, drifting through social galas and silent dinners.