And I knew that was a lie, because for six weeks I had been sitting quietly in the finance department where everyone ignored me, comparing current vendor payments against the archived contracts, line by line, late at night — and I had found millions of dollars routed through shell consultants, every one of them traceable, if you knew how to look, to a holding company owned by Wendy’s own brother.

I did not say any of that at the dinner table.

Not yet.

“You cannot promise me to anyone, Wendy,” I said instead, keeping my voice level.

She smiled at me, the indulgent smile she saved for moments when she believed I was being difficult.

“Don’t be childish, Jessi.

Your father left you eighteen percent of this company.

Luca wants stability.