Chương 8
Not really.
The resemblance in the ballroom had been grief doing its usual dishonest work.
Lily was herself.
That realization relieved him.
June stayed standing.
“We’re here because Lily asked.”
Adrian looked at the girl.
“You wanted to see me?”
She nodded.
“I forgot something.”
“What?”
She reached into her pocket.
The red ribbon appeared.
Adrian stared at it.
“You took it.”
“It’s mine.”
He looked up.
Lily’s expression sharpened.
“Claire gave it to me.”
“In the stable?”
“Yes.”
“I thought she tied it to Blackthorn.”
“She did.”
Adrian waited.
Lily sighed in mild exasperation.
“She tied it there and then told me if I ever saw it again, I could have it.”
June closed her eyes.
“You left out that part.”
“I forgot.”
Adrian looked at the ribbon.
“Why would seeing it again matter?”
Lily shrugged.
“She said Blackthorn would keep it safe until people stopped being stupid.”
June whispered, “Oh, Claire.”
Adrian almost laughed.
That sounded exactly like his daughter.
“What people?”
“She didn’t say.”
He suspected she had.
He did not press.
Lily put the ribbon on the table.
“Mom says you think Claire is sick.”
June’s head snapped toward her.
“Lily.”
“What?”
“That was private.”
“You said it in the kitchen.”
“I thought you were brushing your teeth.”
“I was.”
Adrian looked at June.
“Do you know what’s wrong with her?”
“No.”
“Do you know how to contact her?”
June hesitated.
That was the first real answer she had given.
Adrian felt the old machinery activate inside him.
Pressure the weak point.
Ask narrower questions.
Watch the eyes.
He had built companies that way.
He had once negotiated a property acquisition for fourteen months because an eighty-year-old owner refused to sell. Adrian discovered the man’s brother needed specialized care, structured a deal around it, and closed within a week.
He had called it understanding motivation.
Claire had called it finding the soft part and pushing.
Adrian sat back.
“I’m not going to ask you for her contact information.”
June studied him.
“Okay.”
“I’m asking you to tell her I know she was alive in March.”
June said nothing.
“And that I want to know whether she’s alive now.”
“I can do that.”
Adrian’s throat tightened.
“Thank you.”
Lily picked up the ribbon again.
“Can Blackthorn come see me?”
June stared at her.
“No.”
Adrian said, “Maybe.”
June stared at him instead.
He raised one hand.
“I said maybe.”
“He can’t come to our apartment.”
“I understand that.”
“He cannot fit in the elevator.”
“I also understand that.”
Lily smiled.
Adrian looked at her.
For the first time since the gala, she looked eight.
Three days passed without an answer from Claire.
Adrian worked.
He discovered work felt different when it was not being used to avoid something.
His assistant found him standing at the office coffee machine on Thursday morning.
“You know someone can bring that to you.”
“I know.”
He pressed the wrong button and received hot water.
His assistant watched.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
“I’ve never seen you use the machine.”
“It’s poorly designed.”
“It has pictures.”
“Unclear pictures.”
She took the cup from him and pushed the correct button.
Adrian drank the coffee.
It was terrible.
“Why do you all drink this?”
“Because you canceled the good coffee service in January.”
He looked at her.
“I did?”
“You said it was wasteful.”
He nodded.
“Bring it back.”
She smiled.
“No.”
“What?”
“You canceled it because it cost twenty-eight thousand dollars a year.”
“That does sound wasteful.”
“Yes.”
They stood in silence.
Adrian looked out the office windows at traffic.
“Did you see the gala video?”
His assistant became careful.
“Yes.”
“Everybody has.”
“Yes.”
“Do I look insane?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“Good judgment.”
She started to leave.
“Monica.”
She turned.
“Did Claire ever call here after she left?”
Monica’s expression changed.
“No.”
“Would you tell me?”
“Yes.”
He believed her.
That mattered more than he expected.
On Friday, Victoria moved into a guest room.
Neither of them announced it.
Her clothes simply stopped appearing in the shared closet.
At dinner they sat across from each other at a table designed for twelve.
Victoria ate soup.
Adrian moved food around a plate.
Finally she said, “This table is ridiculous.”
He looked at it.
“We’ve had it nine years.”
“I know.”
“You picked it.”
“I was ridiculous nine years ago too.”
Adrian smiled faintly.
Then neither spoke for a while.
“Why didn’t you leave me?” he asked.
Victoria looked up.
“After Claire?”
“Yes.”
“I considered it.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I loved you.”
“Past tense?”
“Grammar, Adrian.”
He almost laughed.
Victoria put down her spoon.
“And because part of me liked being necessary to you.”
He waited.
“That’s the ugly answer.”
“Keep going.”
“When Claire left, you fell apart. Not publicly. Publicly you became more efficient. Privately you slept two hours a night and walked around this house like you were listening for footsteps.”
Adrian looked down.
“I thought if I left too, something terrible would happen.”
“So you stayed.”
“Yes.”
“And lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“Because Claire asked.”
“At first.”
“What about later?”
Victoria looked toward the dark windows.
“Later I was afraid you’d find out I helped her.”
“You said you didn’t drive her.”
“I didn’t.”
“What did you do?”
“I gave her cash.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“How much?”
“Four thousand.”
“Why cash?”
“Because she said you monitored the card you paid.”
“I didn’t monitor it.”
“Your office did.”
“For fraud.”
“She knew that.”
Adrian said nothing.
Victoria continued.
“I also gave her the number of an attorney I knew.”
“The attorney who contacted police.”
“Probably.”
“You never asked?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because Claire told me she needed one person in this family to respect a boundary.”
The words hurt.
Victoria looked at him.
“I wanted to be that person.”
“And were you?”
“No.”
May you like
He frowned.
“She asked me not to tell you she had contacted me at all. I told the police about the first email because I was afraid. She was furious.”
