Chương 12
“I am conscious.”
“You just asked me whether the ventilator was a coffee machine.”
I looked at the machine.
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
“That feels fabricated.”
“Then your memory is protecting you.”
I wanted to argue, but exhaustion had turned everything soft around the edges.
Rachel appeared with the wheelchair before Monica could summon anyone.
“Your lawyer called.”
“Dana?”
“She cleared conflicts.”
That sentence cut through the fog better than caffeine.
“She’ll represent me?”
“She said yes.”
I let Monica help me out of the chair beside Lily’s incubator.
Every movement pulled across my incision.
My body felt borrowed.
Rachel steadied my elbow.
“Slow.”
“I am so tired of that word.”
“You’re going to hear it a lot.”
Back in my room, Dana was already waiting on video.
She wore glasses now and had the same expression as before, except sharper.
“I’ve reviewed the agreement.”
I lowered myself into bed.
“And?”
“I don’t like it.”
“That seems promising.”
“It isn’t a legal conclusion.”
“Of course not.”
Dana glanced downward at another screen.
“There are inconsistencies between what the agreement says you received and what you’ve told me you actually received.”
“So we challenge it.”
“Probably.”
“Probably again.”
“Yes.”
“I’m beginning to hate lawyers.”
“That’s healthy.”
Rachel smiled.
Dana did not.
“More importantly, I need to understand the partnership.”
“I sent the K-1.”
“I saw it.”
“And the messages from Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“What do they mean?”
“They mean I want documents.”
I frowned.
“He admitted the transfer.”
“He admitted what he says happened.”
“He was Ethan’s CFO.”
“Which makes him useful and vulnerable at the same time.”
I understood.
If Daniel had certified the transfer, he had reasons to protect himself.
“Do you believe him?”
Dana leaned back.
“I don’t get paid to believe people.”
“What do you get paid to do?”
“Test whether their version survives evidence.”
That answer settled something in me.
“Adrian Vale has documents.”
Dana stopped moving.
Rachel looked toward me.
“What documents?”
I explained the rejected collateral package.
Dana listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she removed her glasses.
“Do not ask Vale personally for anything else.”
“Why?”
“Because if his company becomes a witness or document source, I want clean lines.”
“He already offered to cooperate through proper channels.”
Dana’s eyebrows rose slightly.
“That’s unusually disciplined.”
“He’s unusually terrifying.”
Rachel made a noise of agreement.
Dana put her glasses back on.
“I’ll contact counsel for Vale Capital.”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
“And Ethan?”
“I’m sending notice that you’re represented and that communications about the separation go through me.”
Relief came so quickly I nearly laughed.
“You can do that?”
“That is one of the more pleasant parts of my job.”
“He’s flying here.”
“He can fly wherever he likes.”
“He’ll come to the hospital.”
“Have you told hospital security you don’t want him in your room?”
“No.”
“Do that.”
“But the babies.”
“We separate your medical space from his parental access.”
“You keep saying separate things.”
“Because panic combines everything.”
I looked away.
She was right.
My marriage, money, children, housing, and fear had become one enormous problem in my head.
Dana began dividing it into pieces.
That felt almost rude.
It also felt survivable.
“Where are you supposed to live after discharge?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were ordered out within twenty-four hours.”
“Yes.”
“Do you still have keys?”
“Yes.”
“Do not go to the apartment alone.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Good.”
“Can he lock me out?”
“He can physically change a lock.”
“That isn’t what I mean.”
“I know.”
She leaned closer to the camera.
“Whether he has the legal right to exclude you is a different question, and I’m looking at it.”
I nodded.
“What should I do?”
“Recover.”
“I mean about everything else.”
“Recover.”
I stared at her.
Dana stared back.
Rachel covered a smile with her hand.
“You are irritatingly consistent,” I said.
“It saves time.”
After the call, Rachel helped me change passwords.
Personal email.
Cloud storage.
Banking login.
Then we found the first thing Ethan had missed.
An old folder labeled Taxes 2023.
Inside were copies of partnership statements, capital-account summaries, and correspondence from a private bank in Boston.
I opened one statement.
The balance made me stop breathing.
Forty-six million dollars.
Rachel whispered, “Jesus.”
“I don’t understand.”
The statement was two years old.
Several distributions had gone out since then.
Some to accounts I did not recognize.
Some to Mercer-controlled entities.
One line listed a transfer to CEM Residential.
“The apartment,” I said.
Rachel looked closer.
“How much?”
“Eight-point-two million.”
“Was that the purchase price?”
“No.”
“What was?”
“Seventeen.”
She sat back.
“So part of the apartment may have been bought with money from this partnership.”
My phone rang.
This time it was Dana.
I answered immediately.
“I found more statements.”
“Do not send anything yet.”
“Why?”
“Because Ethan’s counsel just contacted me.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did they say?”
“That you removed confidential business records from the marital residence.”
I stared at Rachel.
“I didn’t remove anything.”
“Good.”
“They’re accusing me already?”
“They’re positioning.”
“For what?”
“To make anything you produce look improperly obtained.”
I felt anger break cleanly through the exhaustion.
“They put documents in my own email and now they’re saying I stole them?”
“Do not respond.”
“I want to.”
“I know.”
“I really want to.”
“Still no.”
Rachel held up both hands as if she agreed with Dana’s authority.
Dana continued.
“They also claim the separation agreement was fully negotiated and voluntarily executed.”
“It was neither.”
“We’ll address that.”
“Did Ethan tell them about Daniel?”
“They didn’t mention him.”
“So he may not know.”
“Correct.”
I looked at the messages again.
“Then Daniel is in danger.”
Dana paused.
“What kind?”
“Professionally.”
“That is his problem.”
“He helped me.”
“He may also have helped move thirty-two million dollars.”
The words felt colder than I wanted.
“You don’t trust anyone.”
“Not for free.”
I thought about Adrian outside the NICU.
“I’m trying to learn that.”
May you like
“Learn slowly.”
After Dana hung up, a nurse brought me another dose of medication.
