Arthur was formally suspended the next morning.
News spread quickly.
CEO placed on leave amid internal financial review.
Sterling Holdings shares dropped twelve percent.
Reporters gathered outside our gates.
Margaret arrived shortly after noon.
She did not knock.
She used the side entrance code.
Or tried to.
I had changed it.
She hammered on the door until I opened it.
“What have you done?”
Not hello.
Not where is Chloe buried.
Not I am sorry.
What have you done?
Margaret stood on the front step in a camel-colored coat, silver hair perfectly styled.
“I buried your granddaughter.”
Her expression flickered.
“Arthur told me.”
“He finally managed to tell you something.”
“Let me in.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“No.”
She lowered her voice.
“Reporters are following me.”
“Then you should probably leave.”
She stared at me with open hatred.
“You are destroying my son while he is grieving.”
The absurdity was almost impressive.
