“I will waive my equity,” Graham said. “I will sign over my shares to the firm.”

Elliot looked at him, his face unreadable.

“Your shares are worthless, Graham,” Elliot said. “The liabilities you created exceed your equity three times over.”

“I have the house,” Graham said.

“The house is in my name,” I said.

Graham turned to me, his eyes wide.

“We signed the deed together,” he said.

“We did,” I said. “But you signed the quitclaim deed last year when we refinanced the property for the Aspen purchase.”

“You said that was for the tax exemption,” he said.

“I lied,” I said.

The sun shifted, throwing a long shadow across the boardroom table.

Graham looked at me, then at Elliot, then at the compliance officer.

His hands were still trembling.

He reached into his jacket pocket, his fingers searching for something that wasn’t there.

His phone was gone.

His keys were on the table.

His office was being locked down.

“Ten minutes, Graham,” Elliot said.

He stood up, taking the blue folder with him.

“And don’t touch anything in your office,” Elliot added. “Arthur will supervise you.”