Two more days passed.
The financial hole in the Whitmore Group kept growing wider. Several senior shareholders had already filed a joint protest, and Mrs. Whitmore was so anxious that blisters formed at the corners of her mouth. She rushed to the hospital every day, desperate to get Sylvia to step forward and steady the company's image.
But Sylvia kept insisting her panic disorder hadn't improved, hiding away in her hospital room and refusing to come out.
One afternoon, Caleb Rivers simmered a pot of soup and headed for the hospital. He wanted to ask Sylvia whether there was any way to stabilize the company. He had just reached the door of her room when the sound of laughter from inside stopped him dead in his tracks.
It was Mr. Whitmore's voice, dripping with undisguised smugness.
"M
