He explained everything slowly, as if he were afraid I might faint. Grandpa Otis had founded Kincaid Industrial forty-one years ago. When my father took over as chief executive, everyone assumed Grandpa had handed him the company too. He hadn’t. Grandpa kept fifty-eight percent of the voting shares in a private trust, and the brass key inside the cedar box opened the safe-deposit box that held the transfer documents.

“The trust names you as sole beneficiary,” Mr. Pike said. “It activates the day you present this box in person.” He unlocked a drawer, slid a thick envelope across the desk, and hesitated. “There’s something else. Your grandfather left an audit with these papers.” I opened it. The first page was a summary in Grandpa’s handwriting. Your father has stolen $1.3 million from the company. Now it’s your decision.