The funeral chapel was bright, white, and silent until the maid raised the crowbar.

A year after the wrecking ball demolished the Westchester mansion, the headquarters of Vance BioTech—formerly Sterling-Vance—looked entirely different.

The dark, cold glass offices had been renovated into open, sunlit spaces filled with green plants, collaborative research hubs, and ethical oversight committees. Under Emily’s leadership as CEO, the company had abandoned Julian’s shadowy military contracts and redirected its three-billion-dollar budget toward developing low-cost cancer treatments and neurological restoration therapies.

The company’s stock had not hit zero, as Julian had predicted. It had reached an all-time high, driven by investor confidence in Emily’s transparent leadership and uncompromising ethics.

On a bright Tuesday afternoon, Emily sat in her corner office overlooking Manhattan, reviewing the final clinical trial results for a new pediatric drug.

Her secretary knocked gently on the door. "Mrs. Vance? Your four o'clock appointment is here."

Emily looked up, smiling. "Send her in."

Detective Sarah Chen—now Senior Chief Investigator Chen—walked into the office wearing a sleek grey suit, carrying a gift bag.

"Chief Chen," Emily teased, standing up to greet her with a warm handshake. "I thought you were too busy taking down Wall Street fraudsters to visit your old clients."

"I always have time for my favorite former corpse," Sarah laughed, setting the gift bag on the desk. "Happy one-year anniversary of taking over the company."

Emily opened the gift bag. Inside sat a beautifully carved wooden desk plaque.

Engraved on the polished brass plate were the words:

"The future belongs to those who break the box."

Emily touched the raised brass letters, a deep, quiet sense of pride washing over her.

"How are things at Sing Sing?" Emily asked casually as they sat down at the glass coffee table.

"Julian tried to file another appeal last week," Sarah said, taking a sip of the sparkling water Emily handed her. "The appellate judge threw it out in five minutes. He's working in the prison laundry room now. Gets one hour of yard time a day in a twelve-by-twelve exercise pen."