“Thank you,” I told Bram. But no, thank you. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I have too much work.”

I brewed more coffee, retrieved Lai Fa from the bathtub, and brought her to the office with me. I settled in with my laptop and rolled up my sleeves. I had to expand my meager list of potential investors, and then I had to start making calls.

In the end, I was able to come up with six names, which I thought gave me a fair chance at success. I only needed one of them to bite.

I dialed the first one, Bill Wesner. His father invested in vineyards, the son dabbled in startups, with considerable success. He was a frequent bidder at our auctions, so he knew me.

“And you’ll be the CEO?” Wesner asked.

“Yes.”

Less than five percent of CEOs were women. I wasn’t trying to make a statement. For now, I had no money to bring anyone else on board.

“Who else is attached to this new project so far?” Wesner meant known entities, other major investors or a serious venture capital firm.

His tone reminded me of the could-I-talk-to-the-man-of-the-house tone I’d heard all through my childhood from salesmen who’d come to our door and found themselves face-to-face with my mother.

“You’re on the top of my list, so you’re the first person I called.”

He wasn’t flattered. We went on talking for another ten minutes, but ultimately, Wesner’s answer was no.

I moved on to the rest of my list. All five potential investors declined. I didn’t book a single in-person meeting. They gave me the distinct impression that they would have preferred to talk to Trey.

I drew a line through their names, then another and another, until my pen went through the paper. Then I tossed the list into the wastebasket.

I needed a million dollars, and I only had twenty days left.

Chapter Twenty

Johanna

1891, January 25, Utrecht, Netherlands

“Never, Mevrouw Van Gogh. Never,” Theo’s doctor had told me when I’d asked when Theo might return to his former self, when he might be discharged.

I refused to believe him. I wrote to our landlord in Paris and asked him to hold our apartment. No matter what I had to do, I would find a way to restore our family to our home.

At my parents’ house, in my childhood room, when nobody could see me, I cried, but I kept returning to Utrecht, undeterred by what I might find each time.