Chairman,” Victoria began, her voice trembling in a register Emily had never once heard her use, the register of a person who has finally met a power greater than her own.

“Please.

Have mercy.” And the chair turned.

Andrew stopped breathing.

Victoria stared in dawning horror.

Because sitting behind the desk, in an expensive suit now instead of a plain gray blazer, was the man she had mocked, and insulted, and dismissed — the husband of the blind woman she had humiliated with a glass of wine.

On the desk before him rested a simple brushed-metal plaque: ROBERT WHITMORE, CHAIRMAN AND CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER, WHITMORE HOLDINGS.

Charles immediately lowered his eyes.