Chương 4
Arthur’s expression changed only around the eyes.
Daniel saw it.
Margaret leaned forward, her bare feet flat on the carpet. “How long have you been waiting for proof that she is exactly who you fear she is?”
Arthur looked toward the window.
“That is not relevant.”
“It is the only relevant thing about you.”
“Margaret, she threatened you.”
“And you enjoyed being right.”
Tessa lowered herself into a chair. The movement produced a soft scrape against the hardwood beneath the rug.
Arthur placed the folded gloves on the desk.
“My daughter has spent years mistaking control for care,” he said. “I recognized it.”
Margaret nodded. “Because she learned it from you.”
A burst of laughter came from the street twenty-one floors below. A group of tourists crossed against the light, hurrying around a delivery truck. Daniel watched them through the window, confused by their freedom from this room.
Arthur looked at him. “I know you believe I acted impulsively.”
“You sent a private recording to every guest at my wedding.”
“I stopped you from making a catastrophic mistake.”
“You didn’t stop me. You detonated the building.”
The older man’s mouth tightened. “Would you have believed me if I had quietly asked you to postpone?”
Daniel glanced at the ring finger of his left hand. A pale band remained where the metal had been.
“I don’t know.”
Arthur nodded as if the uncertainty proved his point.
It did not. That was the problem.
Maribel called Daniel’s phone. He declined the first call. She called again.
He answered.
“Mr. Mercer, I apologize, but we need direction regarding the guests, the food service, and transportation. Several people are refusing to leave because they believe there may be a medical emergency. One guest has contacted a local television reporter.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
Arthur held out his hand for the phone.
Daniel turned away from him. “Tell everyone there is no medical emergency. The ceremony and reception are canceled. Ask them to respect the privacy of both families.”
“There’s also the matter of the hotel account.”
“What matter?”
“The ballroom minimum has been met, but there are additional charges depending on what you want done with the food and flowers.”
Daniel almost laughed. He had spent fourteen months discussing linen colors and appetizer counts, and now four hundred untouched short ribs had become his most orderly problem.
“Donate whatever can be donated,” he said. “Staff meals, shelters, anywhere the hotel already works with. Charge my card.”
Arthur said, “I’m paying for the wedding.”
“Not anymore.”
“Daniel.”
“Not one more dollar.”
He ended the call.
Margaret stared at him. “You can’t afford that.”
“I’ll manage.”
“How much?”
“I said I’ll manage.”
“That isn’t a number.”
“Mom.”
She folded her hands.
Elise spoke from the corridor. “The cancellation insurance won’t cover this.”
Daniel looked at the door. “You knew we had insurance?”
“I bought the policy.”
“What does it cover?”
“Severe weather, sudden illness, military deployment, venue closure. Not a father broadcasting a recording of his daughter to all the guests.”
Arthur looked unmoved. “I’ll absorb the cost.”
“No,” Daniel said.
“You are allowing pride to interfere with practicality.”
“You don’t get to create the disaster and then purchase the cleanup.”
Arthur picked up his gloves. “I am not the person who created this.”
Margaret’s gaze moved from one man to the other.
“Every person in this room helped create it,” she said.
No one argued.
Elise finally walked away from the door. Her footsteps were slow now. Daniel counted six before they disappeared beneath the chandelier’s electrical hum.
He sat beside his mother again.
“What do you need tonight?”
“To go home.”
“That’s not safe.”
The answer came too quickly.
Margaret looked at him.
Daniel heard Elise’s voice in his own and hated her for it until he understood that the voice was also his.
He tried again. “I’m worried about you being alone.”
“That is a different sentence.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“In the apartment where you were supposed to begin your marriage?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because every room in that place belongs to the two of you. Even if she never walks into it again.”
Daniel pressed his palms together.
Arthur said, “You can stay at my house. There are staff—”
“No.”
“A private nurse, then.”
“No.”
“Margaret, you fell twice without telling your son.”
“Three times, according to Elise.”
“This isn’t amusing.”
“It isn’t your decision.”
Daniel looked at Tessa. “Did my mother ask you to record Elise?”
“No.”
“Did Elise know you were there?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Did anyone else see what happened?”
“A makeup artist came through before I started filming. She may have heard them.”
Arthur said, “We should identify her.”
“We should stop turning my wedding into an investigation for ten minutes,” Daniel replied.
Arthur looked at him with genuine incomprehension.
For Arthur, ten minutes without action was surrender. Daniel had watched him negotiate hotel contracts, florist disputes, seating changes, and a thunderstorm backup plan with the same fixed calm. Elise often complained that her father never entered a room unless he knew where the exits were and who could be blamed if they became blocked.
Daniel had admired that quality.
Now he saw the loneliness inside it.
Margaret reached for the black phone. Tessa handed it to her.
The screen showed a frozen image of Elise gripping the chair. Margaret’s own face appeared in the lower corner, pale and rigid.
“Delete the message from the wedding portal,” she said.
Arthur answered. “It has already been downloaded.”
“Delete what you can.”
“It may compromise the evidence.”
“Evidence of what?”
“Coercion. Potential elder abuse.”
Tessa looked frightened by the phrase.
Margaret held the phone out to Arthur. “You don’t get to turn me into a case because that makes your behavior respectable.”
Arthur did not take it.
May you like
Daniel did.
He removed the message from the guest portal, though the system warned him that recipients might retain copies. He then opened the wedding group chat. It contained more than a hundred unread messages.
