Chương 6
Margaret studied him.
“That might be the first time you have said that about someone and sounded surprised.”
Before he could answer, his phone buzzed.
Not a call.
A message.
From Helena.
He looked at the screen.
Thank you for checking in last night.
I realize I never asked how your daughter felt about your disappearing for dinner with a stranger.
Callum smiled.
He typed back.
She was mostly concerned about my jacket.
A few seconds later:
Smart child.
Callum laughed quietly.
Margaret noticed.
“That bad?”
“What?”
“You are smiling at your phone.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
He put the phone down.
“Everyone is impossible today.”
“No.”
Margaret stood.
“You are just not used to being happy and suspicious at the same time.”
The sentence stayed with him.
Later that afternoon, Helena called.
Not texted.
Called.
That alone told him something was wrong.
He answered immediately.
“Hello?”
“Hi.”
Her voice sounded different.
Not afraid.
Controlled.
That was worse.
“Is everything okay?”
“I was going to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
A pause.
“I need you to promise not to make this into a bigger thing than it is.”
Callum sat straighter.
“That is usually the sentence people use before something becomes a bigger thing.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
Another pause.
Then:
“Garrett knows who you are.”
Callum frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means he looked into you.”
The room around him seemed quieter.
“Why?”
“Because he is trying to understand why I would spend time with someone outside my usual circle.”
Callum leaned back.
“That is unsettling.”
“Yes.”
“Is he always like this?”
Helena did not answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
“Helena.”
“I have known people like Garrett my entire adult life.”
“That did not answer the question.”
“No.”
Her voice softened slightly.
“He is not always cruel.”
Callum looked toward the window.
People always added that sentence before describing someone dangerous.
“He can be generous.”
“Okay.”
“He can be charming.”
“Okay.”
“He can also believe that because he has helped people before, they owe him access to their lives.”
Callum was quiet.
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
He heard something in her voice.
Not fear of Garrett.
Something older.
Weariness.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I do not want you surprised.”
“By what?”
“If he contacts you.”
Callum frowned.
“He might?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because that is what he does.”
The answer bothered him.
Not because Garrett might call.
Because Helena said it like someone describing weather.
Something unpleasant.
Something expected.
“Are you asking me to stay away?” Callum asked.
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Too immediately.
“I am asking you to understand the situation.”
“And what is the situation?”
Silence.
Then:
“My life is complicated.”
Callum looked down at his desk.
“That sounds like something people say when they do not want to explain the complicated part.”
“You are very direct.”
“You noticed.”
“Yes.”
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Helena said:
“I liked last night.”
The simplicity of it caught him.
“I did too.”
“I am not used to that.”
“Neither am I.”
A small laugh came through the phone.
It was quieter than yesterday.
More tired.
“Callum?”
“Yeah?”
“If things become uncomfortable…”
“They probably will.”
She laughed softly.
“If things become difficult, I do not want you to feel responsible for fixing them.”
He looked at the phone.
There it was.
The thing beneath everything.
She was not worried about him.
She was worried he would try to carry something that belonged to her.
“I am not trying to fix your life,” he said.
“Good.”
“I am just trying to know the person I had dinner with.”
The silence that followed felt different.
Not uncomfortable.
Careful.
“Thank you,” she said.
The call ended a minute later.
Callum sat there staring at the screen.
Then another notification appeared.
Unknown number.
He almost ignored it.
Almost.
The message contained only one sentence.
Mr. Hayes, I believe we should talk about Helena.
Callum stared at the words.
Then he looked toward the office window.
For the first time since meeting Helena Carrington, he understood something.
The date had never been the dangerous part.
It was everything that came after.
Callum stared at the message for nearly a full minute before doing anything.
The easiest thing would have been to delete it.
That was what common sense suggested.
Unknown number.
Unknown person.
Mentioning Helena.
A normal person would ignore it.
Callum had spent enough years editing news stories to know that normal people often ignored the exact things they should have paid attention to.
He did not reply immediately.
Instead, he took a screenshot.
Then he forwarded it to himself.
Then he saved the number.
Not because he was investigating.
Because he had learned something from years of watching people make mistakes.
Memory was unreliable.
Records were not.
A knock sounded against his office door.
Margaret looked in.
“You look like someone just told you your house is on fire.”
Callum locked his phone.
“Do you ever enter a room normally?”
“No.”
“That seems intentional.”
“It is.”
She stepped inside.
“You have that expression.”
“What expression?”
“The one where you are deciding whether something is a problem or whether you can pretend it is not a problem.”
Callum looked back at his phone.
“I got a strange message.”
“From?”
“Someone connected to Helena.”
Margaret became more serious.
“What kind of strange?”
“Someone wants to talk.”
“That is vague.”
“Yes.”
“And you are considering it.”
“I am considering whether ignoring it is worse.”
Margaret nodded slowly.
That was one of the things Callum appreciated about her.
She did not immediately tell him what to do.
She gave him room to think.
“Do you trust Helena?” she asked.
The question surprised him.
Not because he did not know the answer.
Because he did.
“I do.”
Margaret noticed the certainty.
“That quickly?”
“No.”
He looked down.
“Not quickly.”
That was more accurate.
Trust had not appeared in one night.
May you like
It had started in small moments.
The way she admitted when she was tired.
