Chương 9
“Do you believe that?”
“I believe organizations leak through people who can later say the organization did not.”
Elena thought of Lorraine’s warning: You may want support after the story changes.
“Can we prove it?”
“Not currently.”
“Then it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters. It may not be useful.”
Outside, people lined up at the bakery. A delivery driver balanced three boxes against one hip while trying to open the door with his elbow. Elena watched him struggle until a woman inside noticed and helped.
“Charles offered me a year’s salary,” Elena said.
Priya looked at her.
“I know I said I wouldn’t sign. I’m not going to. But my agency suspended me. My rent goes up in September. My mother needs a safer bathroom.”
“Do you want me to negotiate?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to tell you that refusing is noble?”
“No.”
“Good, because nobility does not pay September rent.”
Elena laughed once, without humor.
Priya closed the folder.
“We can send a demand regarding the false public statement about mutual separation. We can also notify them to preserve communications concerning the leak. It will not create money tomorrow.”
“I know.”
“What do you need tomorrow?”
“A job.”
She applied to six positions. Two employers withdrew interviews after searching her name. One home-care company asked whether she would be willing to discuss the Cole rescue in promotional material. A family in another county offered her a position caring for twins, then rescinded it after the twins’ grandmother said Elena brought “media energy.”
Camille offered money.
Elena refused.
“You would give it to me,” Camille said.
“That is why I can’t take it.”
“That sentence makes no sense.”
“It does to me.”
“Your logic is becoming expensive.”
Elena began waking at 4:12 every morning. In the dream, she was always inside the conservatory, but Nathan was not in the chair. The chair rolled toward her empty, one scorched wheel turning. She would wake with both arms raised as though still carrying him.
She did not tell anyone.
At the guesthouse, Nathan refused three substitute caregivers. The first spoke to Margaret instead of him. The second called the power-assist wheels “training wheels.” The third was competent and patient, which made his rejection harder to explain.
“I don’t like her breathing,” he told Margaret.
“You cannot dismiss someone for breathing.”
“It’s loud.”
“She has asthma.”
“Then she should understand.”
“Understand what?”
“That breathing can be annoying.”
Margaret sat on the edge of his bed and looked at him.
“Are you trying to make everyone leave before they can leave you?”
Nathan pulled the blanket over his face.
Margaret remained there until he lowered it.
“I want Elena.”
“So do I,” she said.
He looked suspicious. “Not the same way.”
“No. Not the same way.”
Margaret called Elena and asked her to meet without Charles.
They chose a coffee shop halfway between the lake and Elena’s apartment. Margaret arrived without a driver, wearing dark glasses and a raincoat. No one recognized her until she removed the glasses, and then two people pretended not to look.
“I would like to hire you independently for temporary visits,” Margaret said.
“Charles won’t allow it.”
“I am Nathan’s guardian too.”
“Is he still my employer?”
“No. I would be.”
“That does not solve the legal conflict.”
“I spoke to my own attorney.”
Elena stirred coffee she had not sweetened.
“You have your own attorney?”
“As of yesterday.”
“What changed?”
Margaret looked toward the pastry case.
“Charles told me the alarm problem was a technical misunderstanding. Then I saw the emails.”
“The investigators already have them.”
“I had not.”
Elena waited.
“I approved moving Evelyn’s orchid,” Margaret said. “I approved the floral wall. I told Nathan to leave the gala because I was embarrassed.”
“By him?”
“By Peter Harcourt’s reaction to him.”
“That is not what Nathan thinks.”
“I know.”
Margaret removed one glove, then the other.
“Peter asked whether Nathan prayed to walk again. At a charity dinner. In front of six people. Nathan said he prayed Peter would stop asking strangers about their legs.”
Elena almost smiled.
“I should have supported him,” Margaret continued. “Instead I apologized to Peter and told Nathan he was being rude. I wanted the evening to remain smooth.”
“You wanted the donor to remain happy.”
“Yes.”
“And you sent Nathan away.”
“Yes.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because when Charles says we must protect the family, what he means is that no one may describe what we did while protecting it.”
The barista called a name. Someone dropped a spoon. Margaret folded and unfolded her gloves.
“I can pay your regular rate,” she said. “No confidentiality clause. Visits can occur in a neutral place until counsel approves something else.”
“Charles will say I’m manipulating Nathan.”
“He already says you are too emotionally involved.”
“Are you sure you don’t?”
Margaret met her eyes.
“I think Nathan depends on you in ways that are not entirely healthy.”
The answer hurt because it was not entirely wrong.
Margaret continued. “I also think we encouraged that dependence whenever it made our lives easier, then condemned it when it challenged us.”
Elena looked down at her coffee.
“What does Nathan need?” Margaret asked.
“Consistency. Accurate information. A chair that fits. Trauma counseling. Adults who stop having arguments within his hearing.”
Margaret gave a tired smile. “The last may be beyond us.”
“Then argue farther away.”
They arranged for Elena to meet Nathan at Dr. Keane’s office the next day as part of a joint counseling session. Priya approved after reviewing the terms in writing.
Nathan arrived in the loaner wheelchair, which was black rather than silver and half an inch too wide. He propelled himself into the office without greeting Elena. He stopped beside the couch.
“You took seven days.”
“I called every day.”
“That isn’t coming.”
May you like
“No.”
Dr. Keane, a quiet man with a habit of polishing his glasses when conversations became difficult, motioned toward the seating area. “Would you like Elena beside you or across from you?”
