Chương 9
Nora objected to “aware of the video.”
“We were present,” she said.
“It is standard language,” Martin replied.
“It sounds like we discovered our own event online.”
“That is not how people read statements.”
“That is exactly how people read them.”
After twelve minutes, they changed it to “The incident shown in the circulating video occurred during last evening’s reception.”
No one was satisfied, which Priya called evidence of acceptable drafting.
The statement went live at eleven thirty.
At eleven forty-two, the Ward Family Trust notified the foundation that it was pausing all pending commitments.
Dr. Bailey arrived at Nora’s office at one.
She did not sit in the conference room. She walked past it, entered Nora’s smaller office, and took the chair near the radiator.
She was in her late forties, with close-cropped hair and rectangular glasses she removed whenever she was angry.
The glasses came off.
“You told me they paused the money,” she said.
“Yes.”
“What does paused mean?”
“They have not formally withdrawn. They are suspending disbursement while they review the relationship.”
“So withdrawn with nicer vowels.”
“Possibly.”
Dr. Bailey rubbed the bridge of her nose. “We already posted the counselor positions.”
“I know.”
“We told families services would expand in January.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Nora sat behind the desk but felt as though she had been placed there for examination.
“I have every version of the budget,” she said.
“That was not my question.”
“No. I don’t know what it feels like to tell a parent the waiting list is staying because a woman lost jewelry in her own clothing.”
Dr. Bailey put her glasses back on.
“Good,” she said.
Nora blinked.
“Good that you know that.”
“I’m working on replacement funds.”
“With what?”
“Reserves, bridge commitments, emergency appeals.”
“Your father?”
“The board controls reserves.”
“Your father controls the board.”
“Not for much longer.”
Dr. Bailey studied her. “What does that mean?”
Nora nearly told her about the trust restructuring, then stopped. It was not yet public or complete.
“It means we are changing governance.”
“That sounds like a brochure.”
“It probably will be one soon.”
Dr. Bailey’s mouth twitched.
Then she leaned forward. “Did you know she would pull the money?”
“I knew she might.”
“And you suspended her anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Nora looked at the gold badge pinned to her suit.
“Because if we let a donor threaten staff and buy silence with program money, the program is not ours to run responsibly.”
“That is a lovely answer.”
“It’s also true.”
“Truth can still be expensive for someone else.”
“I know.”
Dr. Bailey looked toward the window. Across the street, two workers carried a pane of glass into an unfinished storefront. One walked backward, trusting the other to warn him about the curb.
“We’ve had wealthy people disrespect us before,” she said. “Most of them call it concern.”
“I’m not asking you to accept it.”
“I am asking whether your line in the sand is going to become our hole in the budget.”
Nora did not answer.
Dr. Bailey put her glasses in their case.
“We can delay one hire,” she said. “Maybe two. We cannot launch at all without at least sixty percent of the commitment by February.”
“I will have a plan before then.”
“You have six weeks.”
“I know.”
“And Nora?”
“Yes?”
“Do not turn us into the moral proof that you did the right thing. We are not a lesson. We need money.”
After she left, Nora sat without moving for several minutes.
Her assistant, Mae, knocked and entered carrying a stack of printed emails.
“Media requests,” she said. “Also three death threats, though two appear to be from the same person and one is mostly about inherited wealth.”
“Send them to security.”
“I did.”
“Any from Celeste?”
“Not directly. Her daughter called twice.”
Nora looked up. “Her daughter?”
“Vivian Ward. She would not leave details.”
Nora knew the name. Vivian was thirty-three, worked as an architect in Boston, and appeared in family photographs with the reluctant posture of someone who had been instructed to stand closer.
“Did she say why she was calling?”
“No.”
Nora hesitated, then asked Mae to connect her.
Vivian answered on the first ring.
“Thank you,” she said. “I wasn’t sure you would call.”
Her voice was lower than Celeste’s and less controlled.
“What can I do for you?”
“You can tell me whether my mother is going to be sued.”
“We have not made that decision.”
“Which means maybe.”
“It means I can’t discuss legal strategy.”
Vivian exhaled. “Of course.”
Nora waited.
“I saw the video,” Vivian said. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do it.”
“No. I just have experience apologizing afterward.”
Nora leaned back in her chair.
Vivian continued. “She should not have touched you. She should not have accused you. I am not calling to defend that.”
“Then why are you calling?”
“Because she is not well.”
The phrase arrived carrying too many possible meanings.
“Is she ill?”
“No. Not like that. She’s—” Vivian stopped. “My father moved out in May. Their finances are a mess. The trust is not, but their personal accounts are. She has been trying to keep anyone from knowing.”
Nora said nothing.
“She thinks people can smell weakness,” Vivian continued. “Lately she sees humiliation everywhere. A waiter who doesn’t hear her. A committee that changes her proposal. Someone younger correcting a date. She treats all of it like an attack.”
“That does not explain Tomas.”
“Who?”
Nora regretted saying the name.
“An employee she treated similarly last month.”
Vivian went quiet.
“So it wasn’t the first time,” she said.
“No.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You weren’t required to.”
“She will say you are trying to destroy her.”
“I’m trying to determine what happened.”
“She won’t understand the difference.”
“That isn’t my responsibility.”
“No.”
Vivian’s voice became very small. “It used to be mine.”
Nora looked toward the office door. Mae had closed it.
“What do you want from me?” Nora asked.
May you like
“I don’t know.”
It was the second time in less than a day someone had offered her that answer, and she trusted it more than any request.
