“That is all we have to say,” I said.

I turned, keeping my arm around her shoulder, and guided her toward the private exit hallway.

The reporters began shouting again, but the security guards blocked their path.

We entered the secure parking garage under the hospital.

The air was damp and smelled of concrete and old exhaust.

My black SUV was parked near a massive concrete pillar.

Just as I pulled my keys out, my phone rang in my pocket again.

The screen showed Ruth’s name.

I answered it immediately.

“Ruth,” I said.

“Daniel, are you still at the hospital?” her voice was hushed and frantic.

“We are in the garage,” I said.

“We just finished talking to the press.”

“You need to know what is happening here,” Ruth said.

“I am at the estate right now.”

“Richard Vance is in the house.”

My chest tightened at the name.

Richard Vance was the former family attorney who had handled my late wife’s estate.

He was also a close ally of the board members who wanted me gone.

“Why is Vance at the house, Ruth?” I asked.