He reached into his coat and drew out one more folded page.

“And neither am I. My firm’s board met an hour ago. You’ve been terminated as senior director, effective immediately. And the two gentlemen coming through the door behind you are here to discuss the rest of your future.”

Two state troopers stepped in from the main entrance, their boots heavy on the tile.

“Victoria Ellison?” the lead officer said. “You’re under arrest for grand larceny, wire fraud, and felony identity theft. You have the right to remain silent.”

Victoria backed away, her heels sliding on the polished floor. “Mom. Dad. Do something. Tell them to stop — tell them to stop!”

It was the last time I ever heard her sound like the girl I’d grown up beside — not the strategist, not the storm, just a frightened person calling for parents who, for once, would not move to save her.