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She verifies.

She corroborates.

She gives people opportunities to respond.

And apparently, when the facts don't support the story she expects to find, she doesn't print it.

Integrity.

I respect that.

I don't trust it.

Not with Granddad.

Because good intentions don't prevent damage.

And I don't know what she's found.

That's what twists my stomach.

There may be nothing.

There probably is nothing.

But all it takes is one connection presented without context.

One ugly allegation attached to Garrison Knight's name.

One headline that lives forever on the internet.

No.

Granddad isn't becoming anyone's fucking story.

Not that kind.

He mattered too much.

More than the companies.

More than the money.

More than Knight Global.

More than anyone else on this planet ever has.

He was the person who looked at a strange, obsessive kid who cared more about numbers and systems than whatever the other boys were doing and never once made me feel like there was something wrong with me.

He taught me rugby.

Taught me business.

Taught me that making money was easy compared to being worthy of it.

And when everyone else saw the Knight heir, Granddad saw Mitch.

Just Mitch.