When the doors of the executive boardroom swung open, the murmur of twenty board members stopped instantly.

At the head of the long mahogany table sat Thomas Sterling—late forties, arrogant posture, a sharp calculating smile that reminded me immediately of the villains in Hazel’s journal.

Beside him stood his brother Robert, a corporate attorney with a bloodless expression.

“What is the meaning of this?” Thomas barked, slamming his pen onto the table as he stood. “This is a closed-door vote. Security!”

“Security won’t be coming, Mr. Sterling,” Mr. Ellery said smoothly, stepping in and placing a stack of certified documents on the center of the table.

“I’m here as the executor of the estate of your late aunt. Hazel Sterling Vance.”