I met her away from the office, and I gave her something almost no one knew I could give: legal access to the trust’s audit rights.

My father, writing the trust, had built into it the standing power to examine the company’s books — a fail-safe, a lever he hoped his daughter would never have to pull.

I pulled it.

I handed Phoebe the key to every ledger in Vance Global, and I asked her to tell me the truth, all of it, however long it took and wherever it led.

“You understand,” she said, in that level voice, “that once I start, I am going to find whatever is actually there.