That night in my apartment, I got everything ready.

I printed three copies of the will. I downloaded the 2018 board minutes onto my phone as a backup. I wrote a brief statement.

It wasn’t an accusation. It was just a presentation of facts. Jonathan Woods confirmed he’d attend as the authenticating attorney.

Margaret texted at 11:00 p.m. “Petition filed. See you tomorrow. Your grandmother would be proud.”

I barely slept. But for once, it wasn’t anxiety keeping me awake. It was pure anticipation.

It was May 18, 2024. 9:45 a.m. Ashford Tower. The elevator opened onto the forty-second floor.