I got up, turned up my coat collar against the cool breeze, and started walking toward the train station.

The thirty-day window for finalizing the settlement wire was forty-eight hours off, but there was nothing left on Fifth Avenue that needed my signature.

I reached the glass entrance of the subway station, drew a deep breath of the crisp air, and walked down the concrete stairs toward the platform.

A text alert went off when I turned my phone back on at the bottom of the stairs.

It was from Rosalind, sent three minutes after the board meeting broke up, asking for a private meeting at her townhouse before five o’clock to talk about an unverified paternity settlement.