He pulled out the document, his eyes scanning the pages quickly under the light of the chandelier.

“He is giving us until noon tomorrow,” Julian said.

“He wants you out before the board meeting on Friday,” Priya added.

She was still typing, her fingers moving like lightning across her keyboard.

“I am not leaving,” I said.

“But the legal standing is precarious, Evelyn,” Julian said.

He rubbed his temple, his expression weary.

“If the board signed over the power of attorney, we need a judge to stay the eviction,” he said.

“Let him try to put my mother’s things on the street,” I said.

“It would look terrible for the brand,” Marta murmured from the corner of the room.

Her hands were folded over her apron, her face pale.

I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece.

It was exactly five o’clock.

The annual Metropolitan Hospitality Summit began at seven.

“Priya, did the RSVP list include Arthur Vance?” I asked.

“Yes,” Priya said without looking up. “And the Sterling brothers.”

“Good,” I said. “Marta, please get my black velvet gown from the closet.”