Wendy sat at the head of the long conference table in a tailored navy suit, flanked by her brother on one side and Luca Vance on the other.

Three of the directors she controlled sat to her right, chatting easily over coffee, entirely at ease.

I could see them through the glass, down the hall, as I waited by the private elevator.

“Jessi is resting, under medical supervision,” I heard Wendy telling the room, her voice carrying with practiced sorrow.

“It’s a tragedy.

But her emotional instability has forced our hand.

The kindest thing we can do is stabilize the firm without her, for her own sake as much as ours.