He had risked everything to help me expose the truth about the foundation’s missing millions.

“I need time to think,” I said, my voice shaking.

“You have five minutes,” my father replied.

From the shadow of the hallway, a door clicked open.

Eleanor Price stepped into the living room.

Her face was pale, but her chin was held high.

My father turned, his brow furrowing as he recognized her.

“Eleanor,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

“What are you doing here?”

“I am here to watch you fall, Richard,” Eleanor said, her voice holding firm.

She walked toward us, her heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor.

She ignored my father entirely and looked directly at me.

“Claire, do not sign anything,” Eleanor said.

“He has no power over Senator Sterling anymore.”

My father sneered, taking a step toward her.

“The senator is loyal to those who fund his campaigns, Eleanor.”

“You know nothing of our arrangements.”

“I know more than you think,” Eleanor said.

She reached into her cardigan pocket and pulled out a small silver key.

“Margaret knew everything, Richard.”