She controlled the boardroom, the dinner table, the narrative, the directors, the story everyone told about our family and our company.

She could walk into any space and bend it to her version of reality, and for a long time I believed, watching her, that this was what power was.

And she was wrong, and I was wrong to be impressed by it, and the reason is simple.

Controlling the room is controlling the surface — the appearance, the moment, the performance.

But underneath every room, holding it up, are the facts.