“I hold fifty-one percent of the voting shares through my father’s trust, Garrick,” I said, stepping closer. “The same trust you assumed you’d inherit — while you let your mother flush my cancer medication down the toilet.”

Miriam shot to her feet, her voice climbing. “This is a Christian company! You are an ungrateful, vindictive woman! Garrick saved you from your pathetic little life!”

“Your son moved one-point-two million dollars out of the company’s charitable healthcare fund to cover your private offshore debts, Miriam,” I said, sliding the bank logs across the glass.

“I didn’t decide that. He did, in writing, for three years. The federal warrants are already signed.”

The boardroom doors opened again. Two plainclothes federal investigators stepped in and showed their credentials to Garrick.

“Garrick Thorne, you’re under arrest for corporate fraud, embezzlement, and financial conspiracy,” the lead investigator said, drawing a pair of handcuffs from his belt.