“Sit down, Evelyn,” Ethan said gently. “You’ll want to read what’s in front of you before the others arrive.”

Within forty-five minutes, seven of the nine board directors had taken their seats, their faces pale and confused under the bright lights.

They muttered among themselves, their voices low as they began flipping through the pages I had prepared.

“This can’t be real,” one of the men, a real estate mogul named Henderson, muttered.

“It is entirely real, Thomas,” Ethan said, standing at the head of the table.

At exactly 5:50 AM, the heavy double doors of the boardroom swung open.

Daniel Pierce walked in, his overcoat unbuttoned, his tie slightly crooked.

He took one look at the gathered directors, then at Ethan, and finally his eyes landed on me.

“What is this, Ethan?” Daniel asked, his voice forced into a light, scoffing tone. “A breakfast meeting I wasn’t invited to?”

“Sit down, Daniel,” Ethan said.

Daniel didn’t move. He kept his hand on the back of an empty chair.

“Who authorized an emergency session without my signature?” Daniel asked, looking around the table for support.