"SO, AS YOU GUYS probably know, WEH is run from two offices, here and in the Canary Wharf office in London."

I nod. It's hard to forget the image of my dad's legacy emblazoned on the TV each time London is on the news.

"We'll be joined shortly by the London team, but it's just let you know that each office has equal footing."

"Equal footing?"

"Yes, both offices are working equally on the same projects, same deals and are exclusively aware of what is going on at each front. It's become more and more important that we all rally together..."

"Why?" Millie asks.

"Well, it seems once news of your dad's condition became public knowledge, the vultures started circling, so to speak."

My conversation with Tab comes to mind. No doubt Tanner Communications was one of those vultures.

"But, rest assured, this company is going nowhere," Pete smiles.

"Well, that's good to know."

He chuckles just as the door opens and Lisa comes in holding a very complicated-looking remote.

"This is London now. They are obviously aware we are having this conversation today, and expressed interest in being involved... I hope that's okay?"

It was too late to object now, but it didn't bother me, particularly as Pete had just finished saying that the two offices work in tandem with each other. I wasn't about to disrupt that now.

Lisa hands Pete the remote and offers both Millie and I a smile before she closes the door. After a few punches of buttons, the large screen at the end of the room turns on, and I note four people are sitting in a boardroom similar to this one, only a bit smaller. I recognise two of the men at the table from meetings Dad had taken at home, but they don't greet us or say anything, making me glad we chose to come into the New York office. Pete and Toby seem infinitely more friendly.

"Archie, Millie, this is Henry Rushe, my equivalent in London." The man closest to the camera nods before he goes around the room, introducing the others. "They're all up to speed with the particulars," Pete adds, and they all nod in agreement.

Millie squeezes my hand tighter as Pete leans forward and touches a hand to each of the envelopes in front of us. They're identical but I gasp as I recognise the writing on the front. It's Dad's writing. Picking it up, it feels like a rock in my hands.

"What is this?" I ask.

Pete clears his throat and smiles. "It's why you're here."

"It's a letter from your father, Archie," Henry says as Toby slides a large, bound document towards us both, "And a contract."

He looks at Pete, who nods, and he continues. "Your father wishes to sign WEH and all of its subsidiaries to yourselves, to do with what you wish."

The statement sits on my shoulders for a few seconds before I react.

"WHAT?"

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I'm up out of my seat so fast the chair flies backwards. Walking away to the window, I flare my nostrils as I brace myself on the window frame, trying to get my emotions under control.

I turn back around and everyone is looking at me. Pete has a worried expression - I suppose my reaction hadn't been the one he wanted - but then how was I supposed to react? Dad wanted to sign his company over to us, to do with what we wish... What did that even mean? How could Pete expect us to react any differently to how I am now?

After a few minutes, I come back over to the table on my own steam, but Millie pushes the letter away as I sit back down. She looks as angry as I feel, so I'm glad it's not just me.

"What makes you think we want to listen to anything Dad has to say?"

"I understand it's a lot to take in," Pete answers calmly, clasping his hands together on the table. "That's why we wanted to make sure the news came from here, and not from the papers."

"The papers?"

"When news broke of your father's condition a few weeks ago, the papers have been asking us for statements, asking what's going to happen to the company."

I shake my head. How the hell was this all happening? How did the papers find out Dad was sick? Why should this suddenly instigate WEH getting in touch with us now when they knew where we've been all along? What was stopping them from getting in touch before any of this came to light?

"Archie, Millie, do you know why WEH is such a different company to others? And why everyone is paying such close attention to it now?"

I shrug as an answer and Millie shakes her head. I hear the voice in the back of my head telling me that was rude, but I'm too angry and shocked to care about that right now.

"WEH is different because it is not governed by a Board. The running of the company sat solely on the shoulders of your father, who owns the full one-hundred percent of WEH, which is mostly unheard of these days."

"We knew Dad owns the whole company. We've always known that." I don't understand how they think this is news to us, we knew that already given his name is literally on the building. But then Pete's face told us there had to be more.

"Well, as you can imagine, and apologies for sounding slightly insensitive here, but a company that has the sole owner behind bars for murder isn't one that can run successfully for much longer."

My eyebrows raise. Well, he wasn't wrong.

"How come we're only being told this now?"

"Because your father, after he was arrested a couple of years ago, agreed to relinquish the day to day business decisions onto myself and Henry, so that's what we've been doing. And we've been running the company for a few years now. The only difference now... is that your father is dying."

"He relinquished the running of the company to you?" Millie asks and Pete nods.

"Yes. He is still the owner but just didn't disagree with the fact he was no longer able to run the company by himself. For lack of a better word, a 'board' was set up, headed by myself and Henry, and it was agreed that your dad would step down in all but name."

"So you've been running WEH since Dad got arrested?" I ask.

"We have."

"Why weren't we told about this sooner?" Millie asks.

Henry goes on to explain that they had tried to contact us in the weeks after the accident, after Dad got arrested and had been sentenced, and as he spoke, it all started slotting into place.

Millie and I had been in no fit state to do anything - me especially given I'd only really just got my act together - let alone make business decisions. I remember a lot of phone calls being ignored - from everyone, not just Millie - and I never would have picked up if I knew it was WEH trying to get in touch. I saw red whenever it came to anything to do with Dad. I still do most days.

The calls kept coming for the first few months I was in New York. Eventually they stopped, but I did receive a letter. And I knew exactly where that letter was, because it's still there now; it's tucked between two cookery books in the kitchen, gathering dust. And I'm guessing all of what Henry and Pete are saying  now, was in that letter.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, looking down, ashamed. "I'm sorry I ignored all the calls."

"Don't be." Pete and Henry both shake their heads. "Archie, we had instructions from your father to continue as we had been, so there wasn't any danger to the prospects of the company with us not able to get in contact."

"To continue as we had been? What does that mean?"

"Trading as usual," Toby interjects. "Operating and continuing with projects that had already been started and were successful. Having such a large global reach, it was important WEH was kept solvent."

Solvent? I knew enough business terminology to know that what businesses didn't want was to be insolvent.

"If you guys have been doing that successfully then why is there the need for us to come in and change anything now? Putting us in charge would be the worst idea possible."

"We know that," Pete says, shaking his head as a smile crosses his face. "But you shouldn't underestimate your knowledge and worth here. You're both intelligent and you're surrounded by people who would help you." He smiles. "Please rest assured that, whatever decision you make today, you will always have the support of everyone, in both this room and the company."

"And we should iterate that the business side of WEH is doing incredibly well, despite the circumstances we are in. But there are other ways in which WEH can give back. It's not just business we do at WEH," Henry adds. "And I think that's where you and Millie can help."

I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. It was all getting too much again.

"Does Dad know we're here today?" Millie asks, after nearly five minutes of silence, as everything is left to sink in.

"He does."

"And what does he want us to do?"

"He wants you to decide for yourselves. He wrote those letters nearly a year ago now, before anyone found out he was sick, probably before he found out himself, as it just after he was sentenced."

"Do you know what they say?" I ask and Pete shakes his head.

"We don't. He wanted it to be solely your decision and your decision only, making it clear that we were to respect it, no matter what it was."

I nod slowly and the room is quiet again for a while.

"Archie, can I ask you a question?" Pete asks. "And you don't have to answer this, but if you'd forgive my curiosity..."

We look at each other but we nod, having no idea what this question could be.

"Do you remember how old you were when your dad started..."

He trails off, but I know what he's going to ask.

"When he started hitting me?" I finish his question.

The age I always remembered was thirteen or fourteen, but there were instances before that. It was all a bit blurry when I was younger, but he definitely smacked me when I was ten or eleven, probably even before that. It was nowhere near as bad as when I was a teenager, but it still stung enough to know he meant it. And as I deliberate telling the truth, a look from Millie was enough to tell me I had to, plain and simple.

"Earliest I remember?" I ask and he nods.

I sigh and I see tears building in Millie's eyes as I tell the truth.

"I was about nine when it first happened, I think."

Pete nods, and I frown as I notice that answer hadn't shocked him as much as it had shocked Millie.

"Archie, do you remember going to A&E when you were five?"

I look at Millie and then back to Pete. I did remember but it was because I backed into the marble kitchen counter when Millie and I were playing Tag in the kitchen.

"Did you know that visit was because of your dad? And that you nearly died?"

My eyebrows raise. Died? I remember being in for a couple of days... but I don't really remember much else. I'd been too young.

"Nearly died?" Millie asks the question for me because I seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

He nods and continues. "Your parents were having an argument at home, and you woke up to see what was wrong, clearly hearing the distress in your mum's voice. You found them arguing at the top of the stairs."

I went cold as I knew what was coming next, as those horrible memories I'd been suppressing all the years suddenly came flooding back.

The world tumbling as I fell backwards down the stairs, and then it all going black as my head collided with the bannister and then the cold, marble floor of our foyer.

As Pete continues, my eyes are wide and I can't believe I'd blocked this out all this time. The spot on the back of my head, where I had the scar, now throbs.

"Your dad... He..." Pete takes a deep breath, and he is clearly finding it hard to say. "He hit your mother."

I clench my jaw, bringing myself back to reality. I knew he hit Mum. It's one of the reasons why I endured as much as I did, so she wouldn't have to. It makes me sick to my stomach that I'm having to hear all of this, but it seems we need to.

"How do you know all this?" Millie asks, her voice tight as she fights back tears.

"The police were called and took statements from both of your parents at the hospital. Some neighbours had reported it when they heard intense arguing."

This would have been before we moved schools, so it would have been harder to hide the shouting in an apartment than in our house.

"When the police took statements, your mum told one story, your dad told another... but after a week, your mum changed her story."

Mum's letter flooded into my mind, the one she wrote when she left. She said that she had made excuses for him for years, and now it seems she had been doing it since I was little, not just the times I remembered.

"How did you find out?" Millie asks. "How did you know that when we didn't?"

"Your mother."

"Mum? Pete, do you know where she is?"

"I'm afraid we don't." He shakes his head quickly, his expression solemn. "But that's not why we're mentioning this. Even before the two of you were born, we noticed your dad had erratic mood swings, a terrible temper, and we put our foot down when Henry saw your dad hit your mother at one of our events."

"What?" I look at Henry.

He doesn't answer the question but Pete keeps going. Henry looks down at his lap, clearly ashamed of how he and possibly other were aware of what was going on and did nothing.

"When we heard about your hospital visit, we called him up on it and made him sign an agreement, regardless of the statement at the time. We had our suspicions but unfortunately didn't have the power to do anything more than that... It was something we thought would protect you, Millie and your mother, if the situation ever arose again. It held him accountable for his actions, should it ever happen again - should he ever lay a hand on any of you again."

I wanted to laugh. They had no idea how often it happened at home, behind closed doors.

"What agreement?"

"An agreement to pass over the running of the company to a more fit individual, should anything like that happen again." He looks down. "It was clear then - when you were little - that he was slipping, even to him, and after a few weeks he signed it, no questions asked, promising it wouldn't happen again."

I scoff and Millie glares at me. "Except it did."

"Except it did," Pete repeats. "The agreement was filed away, and as far as we understood, he had kept his promise to us and the company. That was until he was brought into custody, after attacking you, Archie. Three years ago.

When Pete said the number of years, it was hard to think it had really been that long. The scars weren't there - replaced with new ones - and so much had happened since then that I never felt like I needed to go back there. But as he speaks, I suddenly see the shadow of Dad looming over me, telling me how much of a failure I was, telling me I wasn't his son anymore, knowing there was a possibility I wasn't going to make it another day.

"What happened after that?" Millie asks.

"Well, when we heard from Wendy, we agreed that she should take over the day-to-day decisions, having worked for the company before. She knew the ins and outs, so the plan was to have your father sign the company over to her. Only, once the paperwork had been drawn up, she..."

"Disappeared," Millie finishes his sentence. "Yeah, we know." Her voice is harsh, and the whole room now feels uncomfortably silent, the reality of what Dad did settling between everyone.

"I..." I start to say, shaking my head. "I can't believe all this."

I look at Millie before getting up and walking over to the window again, wanting to be away from the table, and away from their prying penetrative gazes. I run my hands through my hair, running my hands over the scar at the back of my head - the one I thought was from the kitchen counter. It had been one thing after another with him, and even now, I still felt like he was controlling the shots. I thought I'd had my last dealing with him when he was sentenced. But every time I think I'm done, he comes back, hitting me harder than he ever had... hurting me so much worse.

And Mum. Hearing what Pete said, it really didn't sit right. What she'd said in that letter... how she always made excuses... it hit home so much harder now that I knew the truth. I  had always respected my mum, even when she left, for the way she protected us when we were little and looked out for us. But it had all been a lie. An act almost. Preserving this perfect childhood we thought we had, before he turned sour, when actually he was just bad through and through. It's never okay to hit anyone, never okay to hit an adult let alone a child, HIS child, and yet she knew... and she helped him get away with it for all this time.

"Have you heard from her at all?" Toby asks.

Millie and I both shake our heads.

"Let's just say that the two of us are trying to forget where we came from these days..." Millie spits, understandably angry. It's not just me these events are affecting. Hearing this can't be easy for her either.

"I can understand that," Pete says. "In my opinion guys have been dealt one of the worst hand of cards when it came to the people that should protect you. You have no idea how sorry we are that we didn't realise this was going on." He looks down at his hands. "We could- should have done more."

As grateful as I was for an apology, even if it was nearly fifteen years too late, I wanted to talk about something else. Anything else. And when Millie sighs and looks at the leather packet in front of her, I'm grateful when she speaks.

"What if we don't want to read what he has to say?" Her voice is low but laced with anger.

I'd be lying if I said I wanted to read it. I wanted to burn it. I wanted to run. I wanted to do anything more than I wanted to read what he had written down. But a small part of me wants to know what he has to say for himself.

I instinctively put my hand over hers and she looks at me, her eyes filled with anger, like I'd betrayed her worse than I ever had before.

"You want to hear what he has to say?" she asks me, her voice low but harsh.

"No. Of course I don't. But we have to, Mils." I take her hand and squeeze it again as her eyes blaze into mine.

"After what you've just found out?" Her voice is incredulous. Shocked.

I sigh as I look at the letter in front of me. I had no idea what there was on those pages... Excuses? Explanations? Apologies? But what I do know is that that tiny voice in my head - Tessa's voice - was right. I couldn't move on with my life until I knew what he had to say. It didn't matter what was in there. What mattered was that we both needed to step out from under his shadow, once and for all, and this was the only way to do that.

"Millie," I whisper. "Please."

"Arch, I don't want to know," she says through gritted teeth. "I don't want to know!"

"We do this and we're free."

"How are we free?"

I didn't know how we were, but that voice in the back of my head told me that we would be. One last thing, and we would be free.

"Please, Millie," I beg.

She looks at me, her eyes still blazing, but I watch as they soften before finally, after what feels like eternity has passed, she nods.

I give her a small smile as I lean forward and peck her forehead. She wipes her eyes as a tear escapes but sighs in resignment.

"You'll thank me eventually," I whisper, trying to make it light, so she didn't feel like I was forcing her into anything. She grumbles but doesn't respond. Millie's the sort of person who doesn't do things she doesn't want to do, so deep down, she knows it's the right thing to do.

"What happens if we don't like what he has to say?" I ask Pete, knowing there was a definite possibility of that happening.

"Well..." Henry looks at Pete, and Pete smiles. "We can cross that bridge when we come to it."

I nod. I suppose there would always have been a contingency, and if there wasn't, they are business people after all. They would never have put all their eggs in one basket.

"We'll give you two some privacy," Henry says when Millie picks up her envelope. I look at mine, Dad's writing clear as day on the front, and my ears start to ring.

The screen from London goes dark as Toby and Pete stand to leave. Toby gives us both a reassuring smile before he leaves the room but Pete stays behind.

"Just press that button when you're ready. Please... take as much time as you need okay. As much time as you need."

"Thank you," I offer with as good a smile as I can manage. He gives me one final nod before he follows Toby out, closing the door behind him.

Millie looks at me, her eyes now tired but blazing. She's angry, but her anger isn't directed at me.

"Here goes nothing?"

I let out a breath as she stands. She puts her hand on my shoulder and I look up at her.

"Here goes nothing," I agree.

I watch as she walks over to the window. I watch as she carefully undoes the packet and pulls the letter out. I watch as she reads. And I watch as she is overcome with emotion.

I know that's why I really do have to read it.

I look at the letter in front of me and take a deep breath as I open it, my hands shaking as I pull the sheets and place them down on the table.

Keeping a calm mind, knowing he can no longer hurt me, I start to read.