And I sat up slowly on the edge of the bed, swinging my legs over the side, and pain flared through my fractured ribs, and I welcomed it, because it was proof that I was alive, while the plot to steal everything I had was collapsing on top of the people who built it.

I looked at Chloe, weeping against the wall, her silk rumpled, her face bloodless, and I felt none of the triumph I might have expected.

I felt only a great and final coldness, the closing of a door.

“There’s a board meeting at eight this morning,” I said quietly, standing, pulling a dark coat over my hospital gown.

“Anthony and the lawyers and all the rest of the vultures will be around the table, preparing to carve up my estate.

Imagine their surprise,” I said, looking down at her, “when I walk through the door.”