I felt my stomach tighten.
Dad didn’t answer immediately. “That depends on how quickly we contain it,” he replied finally.
Drew didn’t hesitate. “I’ll keep this from reaching the board.”
The implication behind what Drew said hit harder than anything else discussed in that room. Drew wasn’t offering a suggestion. He was claiming control.
I didn’t need to see Dad’s expression to know he didn’t appreciate Drew stepping into the space he usually occupied.
Inside the study, Lorne laughed under his breath. “You’re assuming you can control that outcome.”
“I’m stating escalation benefits no one here,” Drew answered.
I caught a partial glimpse of Dad through the narrow opening of the door as he moved closer to the desk. His jaw looked tight, his body stiff with barely contained anger.
“You allowed this financial structure to become unnecessarily complicated,” Dad said, the kind of measured tone he used when he was one step away from losing patience with Lorne.
“My responsibility was maintaining the flow of capital,” Lorne fired back. “Your responsibility was ensuring no one started looking at the numbers.”
Years of tension surfaced in seconds. “You pushed the structure too far,” Dad continued. “Additional offshore layers were unnecessary.”
“Your board demanded results,” Lorne snapped. “Do not pretend you objected when the numbers improved.”
The argument escalated, neither of them seemed willing to back down. Then Drew stepped forward. I saw the movement through the door—just enough to recognize the shift. One hand rested against the edge of the desk.
“Enough,” Drew said quietly.
Dad stopped talking. Lorne didn’t speak either.
Drew’s gaze moved between them. “We can debate responsibility later,” he continued calmly. “Right now, we focus on two things. First, identifying who initiated the inquiries into the transfers. Second, ensuring the board receives only the information we decide to provide.”
No one argued. Drew continued. “I’ll review internal financial access tonight. Until we determine where the pressure is coming from, no one outside this room discusses the matter.”
Dad’s voice stayed even. “Fine.”
The word sounded more like concession than agreement.
Lorne hesitated. Then he lifted his glass. “For now.”
Drew inclined his head slightly. “For now.”
The room grew quieter, and the tension thickened. I stepped back from the doorway before anyone noticed me standing in the hall. The argument inside continued, but the voices dropped lower into managed and controlled back and forth.
I walked back down the hallway slowly. When I had came through the back door earlier that night, I expected another ordinary evening in a house that had always felt immovable. Instead, I had just witnessed a power shift.
Drew had redirected the room. Not with anger and not with authority. He had done it with strategy. Dad hated whensomeone else controlled the board. For as long as I could remember, Dad had controlled every room in this house. Every conversation. Every decision. Tonight had looked different. Dad hadn’t ended the argument. Lorne hadn’t backed down. Instead, Drew had taken control.
The realization sank deep into my chest as I reached the stairs. The first real crack in this family’s foundation had finally appeared. And the person standing closest to it wasn’t my father—it was my brother.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
LUKE
The envelope arrived on a Tuesday afternoon. I knew what it was the moment I saw the return address from University of Michigan Athletics.
The paper felt heavier than it should have when I lifted it from the mailbox. I just stood there at the end of the driveway, the Pacific wind pushing faint briny air up the hill from the water while I turned the envelope over in my hands.
Years. That was how long I had been working toward this. Early practices before school. Off-season training when everyone else treated summer as a break. Ice time that started before the sun came up and ended long after everyone else had gone home.
