And Savannah’s beautiful, composed, triumphant face simply came apart.

“Dad approved every single one of them!” she screamed, wheeling around, stabbing a finger at our father.

“Every transaction!

He signed off on all of it, ask him!”

Every head in that ballroom turned, at once, toward my father.

“Shut your mouth,” my father hissed at her, “right now, Savannah.” But it was far too late for that.