JULIAN

The afternoon light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office, casting long shadows across the desk.

I'd been reviewing quarterly reports for three hours straight, numbers and projections, employee performance metrics, vendor contracts.

The usual weight of running a company. Thomas Greene had left an hour ago after discussing expansion plans for the manufacturing division.

Everything was moving forward, stabilizing. Cross Industries was becoming what it should have been all along. I was deep into a vendor analysis when my assistant knocked on the doorframe.

"Mr. Cross, the board meeting files you requested," she said, entering with a folder.

"Thank you," I replied, setting down my pen.

She...