Who am I? Nothing but a lowly assistant acquisitions editor at the bottom rung in a company full of experts. I wasn’t offended when I wasn’t included in that upper-level meeting at the Polar Star. In fact, the thought never crossed my mind. Why? Because I am Savannah Cade. Not my mother, Laurie Cade, not my grandmother, Hazel Cade, not even my great-grandfather, Geoffrey Cade, caught out of his hospital bed after having his arm amputated in the first world war fixing the creaky bed. Just . . . me. So what is it he sees in me that he finds worth trusting?
Lack of self esteem
