He didn’t need to.
Marcus Vance had spent years watching my family take advantage of me.
He knew exactly what had happened.
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
Then he hung up.
I sat in the hotel lobby and waited.
For sixty minutes, I listened to the muffled sounds of the reception continuing down the hall.
The music sounded forced.
The laughter sounded nervous.
People knew something was wrong.
They just didn’t know how wrong.
Exactly one hour later, Marcus walked through the front doors.
Behind him stood two uniformed security officers.
He carried a leather briefcase.
Inside were documents that would change everything.
When we entered the ballroom together, the room instantly fell silent.
