It gave me time to work.

Every morning, I rose at five, drove to the office, and worked until eight at night.

We officially rebranded the firm on the first of the month.

The new sign in the lobby was simple: ARDEN ADVISORY.

We lost twelve percent of our clients in the first week, but the rest stayed.

They liked the transparency we offered.

They liked that I was personally overseeing every account.

One evening, about a month after the arrest, I was sitting in my new office on the fortieth floor.

The desk was different now—a simple oak piece that didn’t feel as imposing as Graham’s.

My assistant had left for the night, and the floor was quiet.

A knock came at the door.

It was Maren.

She was carrying a brown cardboard box.

“This just came from the courthouse,” she said, setting it on the chair.

“It’s Graham’s personal effects from his office.”

“They cleared out his desk after the indictment was finalized.”

I looked at the box.

“Do you want me to throw it away?” she asked.

“No,” I said.