A pause.
“She also told me about the will three years ago, right before she passed.”
I gripped my phone tighter.
“Then you know what I’m about to do.”
“I know what you’re considering doing. There’s a difference.”
Margaret’s tone shifted. Sharper now, more business-like.
“You want to request an emergency board meeting? That requires three board members to sign the petition. I’m one. You’ll need two more.”
“Can you help me find them?”
“I can do better than that.”
I heard papers shuffling in the background.
“Gerald Witford isn’t as popular as he thinks. His management style is, let’s call it, autocratic. At least four board members have expressed concerns privately. They just need someone to go first.”
Hope sparked in my chest.
“Who?”
“Richard Holloway. Susan Park.”
She corrected herself.
“Susan Parker. They’ve both been on the receiving end of Gerald’s temper in closed sessions. I’ll make some calls.”
Another pause.
“Duly, I need you to understand something. This isn’t going to be pleasant. Your father will fight. Your sister will fight. They’ll say terrible things.”
“They’ve been saying terrible things my whole life. At least now I get to respond.”
Margaret laughed. A warm, genuine sound.
“Elellanar always said you had steel under all that quiet. I’m starting to see what she meant.”
She cleared her throat.
“I’ll have the petition ready by tonight. Board meeting request May 18th, 10:00 a.m. Witford Tower, 42nd floor.”
“Thank you, Margaret.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me when you’re sitting in that boardroom.”
May 17th. Gerald found out about the board meeting at 4:00 p.m. I know this because Miranda called me 45 minutes later, her voice tight with controlled fury.
“What did you do?”
I was sitting in my cubicle at Witford Properties pretending to organize files.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Dad just got a notice from the board secretary. Emergency meeting tomorrow. Requested by Margaret Coleman and two other directors.”
A pause. Sharp as broken glass.
“Margaret Coleman hasn’t requested anything in 15 years. What did you do?”
“Maybe she has concerns about company management.”
“Don’t play games with me, Duly.”
Miranda’s composure cracked.
“If you’re trying to embarrass us, trying to make some kind of scene—”
“I’m just doing my job, Miranda. Same as always.”
