“Ten million,” Sayer said. “And the transfer of the interstate shipping routes.”

I felt a cold sensation in the pit of my stomach.

The Interstate 70 corridors were the backbone of Northline.

They connected our Denver hub to the mountain hospitals and the western slope.

Without those routes, Northline was just a local delivery service.

“She wants to gut us,” Calvin said, his jaw tightening.

“She wants to sell those routes to our competitor, Apex Transport,” Sayer said.

“Apex has been trying to buy us out for five years,” I said.

“Exactly,” Sayer said. “Your mother has already negotiated the flip.”

The office was quiet again, save for the hum of the computer fans.

“If we lose Saint Jude’s, we lose the mountain clinics next,” Calvin said.

“They’ll think we’re going under,” I said.

“They will,” Calvin agreed. “And once the hospitals pull out, the board will have no choice but to accept your mother’s deal to save what’s left.”

I looked down at the desk, at the scanned document from my past.

My parents had used my vulnerability then to control me.