Isaac stood at the head of the conference room table, hands splayed out on its surface. He stared at the assembled board of trustees. Cyril sat at his right hand, the bruising around his eyes fading. To Isaac’s left was Sonia. Her hair was pulled up into a smooth bun. At the opposite head of the table was Lavinia. She sat upright, stacks of papers carefully arranged in front of her.

“In the months since my mother’s… shall we say, untimely passing,” he said. ...