The silence in the backyard was heavier than any boardroom defeat Grant Hawthorne had ever endured.

By five in the afternoon, the sun began to cast long, amber shadows across the estate. Sky sat on the patio steps, kicking her sneakers against the stone while Nova showed her an interactive star-mapping app on her tablet.

Grant walked over, sitting down beside the girls with two cups of warm apple cider.

"Sky," Grant said gently, "does your mother know where you are?"

Sky’s shoulders stiffened slightly. She looked down at her battered shoes. "She thinks I’m at the community library until six. That’s where I go after school before she wakes up for her night shift. I didn't mean to trespass, Mr. Hawthorne. I just... I heard Peter Vance laughing on the playground about how your daughter would be sitting in her fancy chair all alone. It made me mad."

"Why did it make you mad, Sky?" Nova asked, tilting her head.

Sky took a slow sip of cider. "Because my mom works with kids who get hurt. She comes home every morning with sore feet and tired eyes, but she always says that the bravest people in the world are the ones who have to fight just to move. Peter Vance doesn't know anything about being brave. He just has a rich dad who buys him everything."

Grant looked at the young girl with profound respect. "Your mother raised a remarkable daughter, Sky."

"She’s tired," Sky said simply, her voice dropping. "Our landlord wants to raise the rent next month, and she’s working so much I barely see her. But she tells me that doing what’s right always matters more than being comfortable."

Grant stood up, reaching for his smartphone. "Miss Doway, have our driver pull the town car around. I’m going to escort Sky home myself. And prepare two large hampers of party food and a whole section of the cake for her family."

"You don't have to do that, Mr. Hawthorne," Sky said quickly, her cheeks reddening. "I didn't come here for free stuff."

"I know you didn't," Grant said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "That’s exactly why you’re getting it."

As Nova said goodbye to Sky at the entrance hall, the two girls exchanged tight hugs. Nova pressed a small silver pin shaped like a shooting star into Sky’s palm—a pin Grant’s late wife, Marin, had given Nova when she was a baby.

"Best friends?" Nova asked, her eyes shining.

"Best friends," Sky promised, clutching the star tightly.

Ten minutes later, as the black sedan navigated through the downtown traffic, Grant’s phone buzzed with an incoming call. The caller ID flashed: *Julian Vance*.

Grant answered, his voice icy cold. "Julian."

"Grant! Old friend," Vance’s smooth, aristocratic baritone purred through the speaker. "I heard a terrible rumor that poor Nova’s party was rather sparse today. Terrible shame about the timing with everyone’s summer plans. You know, stress like this isn't good for your focus. Tomorrow’s emergency board meeting will require a clear head. Perhaps it’s time to step down as CEO and dedicate yourself full-time to your family’s... unique needs?"

Grant listened to the faux concern, feeling a cold, calculating calm settle over his veins.

"Julian," Grant replied calmly. "The party was an absolute triumph. And as for tomorrow's meeting? Make sure your seatbelt is fastened. Because you're about to find out what happens when you cross my daughter."