MARION
Friday…
I walked into The Whitfield Diamonds Corporation, heading towards my dad’s office. He called this morning to say that he needed to talk urgently. I hope there’s nothing wrong with him or the corporation.
“Good morning, Mr. Whitfield. How are you doing?” I asked, smiling.
“I’m fine, Son, how are you?”
“I’m good.”
“Sit. Let's talk.” I took a seat in front of him. With that tone, things are serious, then.
“Son, do you remember what you said at the last board meeting? ‘Tradition doesn’t pay the bills, gentlemen. Profit does. And right now, Antwerp bleeds cash while Botswana and Namibia keep us afloat. If we continue honoring the past instead of investing in the present, we won’t be talking about legacy, we’ll be talking about liquidation.’ Those were your words.”
“I rem
