The trust suspended my voting rights on Friday.
The letter arrived by courier at the small apartment I'd rented near the harbor. I read it at my kitchen table, surrounded by unpacked boxes and three weeks of grocery receipts. The trustees cited "a pending review of fiduciary judgment" and appointed Grant to cast the share until further notice.
My father called before I finished the last page.
"Do you understand what you've done?" he asked.
"I understand what the letter says."
"You have made a private matter public and a technical review political."
"The company made it political when you announced an engagement I had ended."
"You have no idea what is at stake."
"Then tell me."
He said nothing for a beat. "The Aster is a major contract. If we lose the public demonstration, we lose
