Charlotte had designed the centerpiece herself of the stage — an enormous backdrop bearing the SwiftFreight and Crestview logos side by side, joined, as if the two were about to become one.

“Tomorrow evening, at the gala, they intend to announce our investment to the press,” my father confirmed, studying the schedule.

“Correct?”

“That’s the plan,” I said.

“Then that,” he said, with a calm that was somehow worse than any anger, “is where our committee will make its own announcement.

And you will be there — not as anyone’s wife, and not as anyone’s daughter, but as the lead specialist behind the forensic file.

As a witness.”