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Daniel Whitmore stopped smiling halfway down the first page. Thirty seconds earlier, he had been standing at our dining room table with the careless confidence of a man opening junk mail. Now the envelope I had placed beside his coffee seemed to weigh a hundred pounds in his hands.

Chapter 2 By 10 the next morning, Daniel had already called Claire. “Mom, what’s happening?” she asked. “Dad says you’re trying to take his company.” I stood at the kitchen...

28/10/2026 18 min read