The shareholders' meeting was held on a Thursday.
The boardroom was full. Investors, attorneys, independent board members—faces I recognized, faces I didn't. The air had the particular charge of people who've been waiting to see which way something will fall and are about to find out.
Charles sat at the far end of the table. His suit was pressed but his hands weren't steady. Mia was beside him—pale, still, no performance left in her. She'd run out of audience.
I took a seat near the center.
Vincent opened my side of the proceedings. He read the share register disclosure: three offshore entities, beneficial ownership now publicly attributed, all roads leading to a holding company registered in my name three weeks ago. Combined with the voting rights attached to the trust my mother had s
