His face collapsed.
Not with anger.
With panic.
The room exploded with gasps.
My mother grabbed the back of a chair.
Vanessa whispered, “Dad?”
The governor folded his arms.
“The trust has grown significantly over the years.”
My throat tightened.
“How much?”
The governor glanced at the paperwork.
“Approximately seven-point-two million dollars.”
A champagne glass shattered somewhere across the ballroom.
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
My father sank into a chair.
