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The president’s office had been cleared of every stick of Abernathy’s furniture and personal belongings when Savannah stepped through the door. Her great-grandfather Luc had been a master woodworker, and he’d built the quartersawn oak bookcases attached to the walls on either side of her. The faint scent of carnauba wax mingled with the stronger overtones of the new creamy-white paint on the walls. Light streamed through the wall of mullioned windows and heightened the patina on the gorgeous old marble floor.

Devoid of its furniture, the office felt massive the way it did when she was small. It still held the whisper of her grandfather Andre’s presence. He hadn’t been flashy like her father but steady with a kind voice and gray eyes that saw the fear she always carried with her as a little girl. If only he were here now to answer her misgivings and calm her feelings of inadequacy. She was about to be the first female president to occupy this space. Proving her worth to take the helm of this place she loved was a huge undertaking.

She bit her lip. “You can do this, Savannah,”

she whispered.

“Where do you want the rug and the library table?”

a gruff voice said from behind her.

She turned to see two deliverymen carrying the piece of furniture. “Right there.”

She gestured to the spot where her grandfather used to sit with one bank of bookshelves behind him. The table matched the bookshelves and wasn’t nearly as grand as the desk Abernathy had used, but she’d been thrilled to find it in storage. Her grandfather had told her the simplicity of the table had been chosen to highlight the beauty of the wood itself. He’d always positioned it so he could see out the window into the small garden spot, and she wanted to do the same.

A third man came in behind them with the new rug, and it only took a few minutes for the room to take shape. She balanced the wide room with her library table and comfortable chairs on one side and a seating area with a leather sofa and coffee table on the other. Both had a beautiful view of the garden.

Savannah placed her briefcase on the table and turned at the familiar staccato of Jess’s heels on the marble. She braced herself for the confrontation with her sister.

Jess’s eyes widened as she took in the new decor. “I-is that Grandpa’s library table?”

Savannah caressed the smooth wood. “It’s still gorgeous, isn’t it?”

“But why? How can you maintain discipline and authority in a space that looks like a parlor instead of an office?”

Savannah’s smile withered. How did Jess always manage to puncture any joy she felt? She pulled herself to her full height and gestured to the chairs on the other side of the table. “Have a seat. Hez should be here any minute.”

“I’m here.”

Ignoring Jess, Hez entered the room and whistled at the transformation. “I could work here.”

He crossed the Persian rug and kissed Savannah before he dropped into the chair beside Jess.

His presence repaired the damage Jess had caused to Savannah’s confidence. “You two are vital to the plans I have for TGU. The three of us—the Council of Three—have a lot of work to do to turn this rudderless ship around.”

She reached into her briefcase and withdrew a notepad. “Jess, you go first. How will you clean up the mess the financials are in?”

Jess looked a little bewildered, but she reached into her bag and pulled out a laptop. “As you know, there were a lot of off-the-books income streams and debts. A lot of shady corners have to be brought into the light of day, and I’m working as fast as I can to accomplish that. I hope to have us in order within the next quarter.”

A smile played around the corners of her lips, and her voice held a quiver of glee.

It didn’t take any real insight for Savannah to guess the source of that joy in her sister’s face. Jess would take delight in hacking off a large chunk of Dad’s trust fund. The very thing he was most eager to protect was about to hit the chopping block, and Jess would be only too happy to take the blame.

“That’s great news. I want a weekly report on your progress.”

Savannah noted the shock on Jess’s face at the order. She’d get over it. “Hez, how about the Justice Chamber?”

Hez smiled and leaned back in his chair. “The Justice Chamber has its first client.”

“Already?”

Savannah eyed the spark of mischief in his eyes.

“TGU will be our first client.”

When Jess started to object, he held up his hand and continued in his commanding courtroom voice. “I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but justice starts at home. My students will jump at the chance to clean up their school. It will set them up for fighting corruption and injustice wherever they find it, no matter the cost. My first target will be the smuggling I believe is still going on. We’re going to track down who’s behind it and put a stop to it.”

Jess shut her laptop with a snap. “That’s a ridiculous plan, Hez. We have enough work to do to recover our reputation without you focusing more attention on Beckett’s actions. Find an innocent person to help. The media attention on that would soon have the public forgetting all about what Beckett did.”

“Hez is right,”

Savannah said. “The evidence he’s found is compelling, and besides, nothing new can be built on a rotten foundation. We have to root out all of the corruption.”

She nodded at Hez. “You had another point?”

He nodded. “I’ve also uncovered a sleazy online diploma mill Abernathy used to generate quick cash. That’s going to stop right now.”

Jess gaped at him before giving a grudging nod of approval. “I heard about that. You’re right—it’s very sleazy and gives us a poor reputation. I tried to get Abernathy to stop it, but he was always about the bottom line.”

Wait, were they actually on the same page? Savannah hid a smile and consulted her notes again. “The final item is security. Jess, Hez has reason to believe Beckett will be out looking for revenge when the Deke Willard trial is over. We need to beef up security. Oscar Pickwick isn’t going to stop anyone from barging in here with a gun.”

The old guard was more interested in his Pokémon Go game than in evaluating risks to the university. “I want you to find money in the budget to hire some real guards.”

Jess went pale and gave a slow nod. “We’ll have no choice if Beckett is out.”

She glanced at her watch. “I have a Zoom meeting in fifteen minutes. That report will be on your desk every Monday morning.”

Hez said nothing until Jess pulled the door shut behind her. “You handled that like a boss, my love.”

Savannah couldn’t hide her smile. “I think Jess was too stunned to object.”

It had been one battle, and the war was far from over.

* * *

Hez didn’t like the look on his neurologist’s face. She wasn’t smiling as she pulled up his CT results, and small lines of concern creased the corners of her mouth and the space between her brows. She turned her monitor sideways so they could both see it. It showed a CT scan of Hez’s head. She pointed to a spot just inside the left wall of his skull. “See that?”

Hez looked closely and saw a small, pale crescent. “Yes, what is it?”

“It’s a subdural hematoma, bleeding on the brain. It’s typically caused by a head injury like the one you suffered.”

Hez stared at the image. “Could that be affecting my memory?”

The doctor shrugged one shoulder. “Probably not. Most researchers think memory is controlled by the temporal lobes, and that’s on your left parietal lobe. But no one knows for sure. Brains are weird.”

That wasn’t the most reassuring thing he’d heard a doctor say. “So, uh, can it be treated?”

“Sure. The most common treatment for a small hematoma like that is to drill a hole in your head and drain the blood.”

He forced a smile. “I always said I didn’t need another hole in the head, but maybe I do.”

She gave a polite chuckle. He guessed she’d heard that joke before. “Maybe, maybe not. When I got this image, the first thing I did was check the scan you got right after your injury two months ago.”

She pulled up a slightly different image and pointed at the same spot. “This shows a hematoma in the same spot that’s pretty close to the same size. The angle is slightly different, which makes it less visible.”

She cleared her throat. “We, um, missed it at the time.”

Hez squinted at the screen. The crescent was there, but it was very, very faint. “Yeah, I can see why.”

The doctor relaxed, and her lips curved into the first genuine smile of the meeting. “To be honest, I was a little nervous saying that to a lawyer. Thanks for being understanding.”

“Of course. Mistakes happen, even to lawyers.”

Her smile broadened. “The delayed diagnosis may actually turn out to be a good thing. If I’d noticed the hematoma two months ago, surgery would have been the clear choice. But that’s not true today. I’ve consulted with a radiologist, and we’re fairly certain the hematoma hasn’t grown. Since you also don’t have any classic symptoms of intracranial pressure, I’m inclined to take a ‘watchful waiting’ approach for now. I want you to come in next week for a follow-up scan. After that, you should have scans every few weeks until we’re sure the hematoma is stable and the underlying injury is fully healed. In the meantime, avoid strenuous physical activity and anything that might result in a blow to the head.”

Hez breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s great news! I—”

His phone rang and Hope’s number appeared on the screen. “I’m sorry. I should take this. Can I step outside for five minutes?”

The doctor waved her hand at the door. “We’re done. Just make a follow-up appointment at the desk before you leave.”

Hez took the call as he walked out of the office. “Hey, Hope. What’s up?”

Her voice was grim. “Beckett Harrison was just found dead in his cell.”