I stared at the emails, the pieces of the puzzle locking together with cold, terrifying precision.

My marriage, my business, my entire life for the last seven years had been a scripted play.

I pulled my phone out and scanned every single page in the folder.

“Can I keep these?” I asked.

“No,” Vance said, reaching out to take the folder back. “But you have your copies now. I suggest you use them quickly.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I stood up, my legs feeling strangely light, as if the weight of my ignorance had finally been lifted.

I walked out of the building and into the cold morning air.

The harbor wind bit through my coat, but I didn’t feel it.

I got back into my car and checked my phone.

It was 8:45 AM.

The meeting at The Spire was in seventy-five minutes.

I started the engine and put the car in drive, my mind racing with how to present this to the board.

Before I could pull away from the curb, my phone rang.

The caller ID showed Carter’s name.