“The board has frozen your personal lines tied to the family trust,” Vance interjected.

“You cannot access those funds without Marcus’s signature.”

I looked at Vance, my anger burning hot.

“I have assets they cannot touch,” I said.

“And I have something they don’t expect.”

I stood up and pointed to the door.

“Leave. Now.”

Vance picked up his briefcase.

“You have until eight o’clock tomorrow morning,” he said.

“After that, the press release goes wide.”

He walked to the door, opened it, and stepped out into the hallway.

Through the open door, I saw two security guards standing post.

They were not the hospital guards.

They were men hired by the Whitmore Corp security detail.

They were monitoring us.

I closed the door and locked it from the inside.

Claire was crying silently, her head bowed.

The yellow light from the bedside lamp cast long shadows across her face.

“They are going to take them from me,” she whispered.

“The boys.”

“They won’t,” I said.

I walked over to the window and looked down at the street.

Three black vans with satellite dishes were already parked near the entrance.