Chương 8
“My father planned this before he died.”
No one answered.
I said it again because the first time had sounded like someone else speaking.
“He planned to put money from my trust into Aurelius.”
Grant’s face had gone unreadable.
“You didn’t know?”
He shook his head.
“Not that part.”
“But you knew Aurelius existed.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the patents.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Dad was involved.”
“Yes.”
“And somehow this specific part escaped you.”
“I’m not asking you to trust me.”
“That would be ambitious.”
His mouth tightened.
Lena’s phone buzzed.
She read the message.
“Martin says the instruction was to exercise the trust’s option to invest in Aurelius once ownership was available.”
“Once ownership was available from whom?”
She typed.
The answer came quickly enough that Martin must have been sitting with the phone in his hand.
“From Brightwell.”
Grant turned toward her.
“That makes no sense.”
“Why?”
“Brightwell wasn’t supposed to own Aurelius.”
Lena stopped typing.
Daniel looked at him.
“What was Brightwell supposed to be?”
Grant hesitated.
Then he glanced toward the NICU doors again.
“A buffer.”
“That word again,” I said.
“A separate vendor entity for engineering work related to Vela.”
“You said consultants.”
“Yes.”
“Were there consultants?”
“Yes.”
“Real ones?”
“Yes.”
Lena folded her arms.
“Names?”
“I don’t remember all of them.”
“Convenient.”
“One was Dr. Henry Sloane.”
Daniel glanced at me.
The name meant nothing.
Grant continued.
“He was a software safety engineer out of Pittsburgh.”
“Still alive?”
“I assume.”
Lena was already searching on her phone.
Grant looked at me.
“Brightwell was never supposed to hold equity.”
“Yet it owns eighteen percent.”
“I heard you.”
“And it kept receiving Northstar payments.”
“I heard that too.”
His temper surfaced for a second.
Then he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I’m sorry.”
I almost told him not to apologize to me as if there were a limited number available and he was wasting one.
Before I could, the NICU doors opened.
A nurse leaned out.
“Mr. Hale?”
Grant straightened.
“Yes?”
“Ms. Crane is asking for you.”
He looked at me.
I hated that he still did that.
As though some part of him wanted permission.
“Go.”
He remained where he was.
“Grant.”
“I need ten minutes.”
“With her?”
“With my son.”
“Then why are you still standing here?”
Something broke loose in his face.
Not anger.
Not relief.
Just exhaustion.
He nodded and disappeared through the doors.
Daniel waited until the lock clicked.
“His instincts are bad.”
Lena looked at him.
“That is an extraordinarily polite diagnosis.”
“I mean legally.”
“I didn’t.”
I leaned against the wall.
“What does it matter whether Dad instructed Martin to invest?”
Daniel shifted the folder under his arm.
“It could matter a great deal.”
“How?”
“If your father’s instruction was valid and predates his death, the investment itself may not be unauthorized.”
“That doesn’t explain someone using my credentials.”
“No.”
“Or why Martin certified it without telling me.”
“No.”
“Or why Brightwell owned shares.”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You’re enjoying saying no tonight.”
“I’m enjoying being precise.”
“You should get a hobby.”
“I have one.”
“What?”
“Woodworking.”
Lena looked genuinely surprised.
“You?”
Daniel frowned.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You look like a man who sends furniture back because one screw is misaligned.”
“That is exactly why I build my own.”
For the first time in hours, I laughed without it hurting.
It lasted maybe two seconds.
Then my phone rang.
Martin Vale.
His name filled the screen.
I answered.
“Martin.”
“Claire.”
His voice sounded thinner than the recording but still irritated with the world.
“I gather everyone has decided bedtime is optional.”
“Did my father instruct you to invest my trust in Aurelius?”
“Yes.”
No hesitation.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
A pause.
“Because he instructed me not to until the transaction completed.”
“That happened almost six years ago.”
“Yes.”
“And after that?”
Another pause.
“Because I was ashamed.”
The answer silenced me.
Martin cleared his throat.
“I made a professional judgment I have regretted every year since.”
Daniel stepped closer.
I put the call on speaker.
“Daniel Kim is here.”
“Wonderful.”
Martin sounded miserable.
“Exactly who I hoped would hear my confession.”
Daniel’s expression barely changed.
“Mr. Vale, before you continue, you may want counsel.”
“I have counsel.”
“Is counsel present?”
“No.”
“Then I recommend—”
“Oh, stop being useful for thirty seconds, Daniel.”
Lena covered her mouth to hide a smile.
Daniel looked offended.
Martin continued.
“Claire, your father believed Aurelius would eventually return the Vela patents to Northstar.”
“For thirty-four million dollars?”
“No.”
Grant’s earlier silence seemed to enter the hallway with us.
“What was supposed to happen?”
“The patents were to be held outside Northstar temporarily while remediation occurred.”
“And then?”
“They were supposed to revert for nominal consideration.”
“How nominal?”
“One dollar.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
Daniel went very still.
“Say that again.”
“One dollar.”
“So Northstar paid thirty-four million for assets it was supposed to reacquire for one dollar.”
“Yes.”
“Who changed the arrangement?”
“I don’t know.”
I looked at Lena.
She was watching me, not the phone.
“Martin, Brightwell owned part of Aurelius.”
Silence.
Then, “No.”
“Yes.”
“That was not the structure.”
“What was?”
“Your trust was supposed to hold thirty-two percent temporarily.”
“Why my trust?”
“Your father was trying to protect you.”
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
“By secretly putting me into a company holding patents removed from Northstar?”
“He believed the trust’s involvement would ensure the patents could not be sold without family consent.”
“Consent I never gave.”
“He expected Martin to manage that until you were ready,” Daniel said.
Martin sighed.
“Essentially.”
I looked at Daniel.
“Don’t help him.”
“I’m clarifying.”
“Stop.”
Martin said my name.
I walked toward the window at the end of the hall.
The city below was all traffic lights and wet pavement.
“What did Dad think I needed protection from?”
Martin did not answer immediately.
“Grant.”
The word landed quietly.
May you like
I turned.
Daniel and Lena both looked toward the NICU doors.
