Chapter 5
Alex didn't sign anything.
He grabbed his suit jacket, pulled Emily to her feet, and turned to leave.
At the door, he paused and looked back.
"Charlotte, you think a few pieces of paper can threaten me? The Lane family isn't something you can just mess with. Just you wait," Alex said.
The door slammed shut.
The elderly mourners exchanged glances, and then an old man with snow-white hair walked up to me and patted my shoulder. "Charlie, your grandmother's love for you wasn't wasted," he said.
His name was Henry Barnes.
He was seventy-three, the honorary chairman of the Northbridge Chamber of Commerce.
Thirty years ago, when his business went bankrupt and he was completely desperate, my grandmother lent him three million dollars. That kind of money was a lifesaver back then.
"If you ever need help, just call me," he said.
Another woman in a black trench coat walked over and handed me a business card.
Her name was Susan Monroe, the editor-in-chief of Business Weekly, the top financial magazine in the country.
"I'll personally write the obituary for Mrs. Sinclair. If anyone tries to mess with you in the media, I'll handle it," she said.
I took the card, didn't cry, and didn't bother with pleasantries.
"Thanks," I said.
When everyone had gone, I was left alone in the vast, empty living room.
There were still ashes scattered across the floor.
I crouched down and gently gathered the grayish-white powder, bit by bit, into my hands.
My fingers trembled, and when a tear fell onto the ashes, it left a darker spot.
"Grandma, I'm sorry,'"I whispered. "I failed to protect you.
"But I promise, from today on, everything you left me, I'll protect, one by one. And everything they owe you, I'll make them pay, down to the last cent."
I carefully put the ashes I could gather back into the urn, closed the lid, and placed it neatly on the altar.
Then I wiped my face, stood up, and called my assistant.
"Tomorrow's board meeting, let everyone know it starts at nine sharp," I said. "Anyone late will be removed from the board."