Chương 10
“I have been lying to some of you.”
A man near the cake table frowned.
She looked at him.
“Yes, Colin, including you.”
Someone chuckled nervously.
Emily almost smiled.
“I kept telling people I was traveling for work.”
She shook her head.
“I was going to coffee shops with my laptop because I didn’t want my parents to know I wasn’t employed.”
Diane closed her eyes.
Emily glanced at her.
“I know.”
Her voice softened.
“I’m sorry.”
Diane did not answer.
That probably saved the moment.
Any forgiveness offered in front of a crowd would have turned it into theater.
Emily looked back at her guests.
“This party was already booked when everything happened.”
She paused.
“I could have canceled it.”
Trevor called from somewhere behind the first row.
“But then what would happen to the sliders?”
Laughter broke the tension.
Emily laughed too.
For a second she covered her mouth.
When she lowered her hand, her eyes were wet.
“The sliders have been canceled, Trevor.”
A collective groan moved through the room.
“That is the real tragedy tonight.”
She glanced at me again.
I lifted one shoulder.
Not my fault.
She looked back at everyone.
“I didn’t cancel because I was embarrassed.”
The laughter faded.
“I thought if I could get through tonight, if I could make everything look normal, maybe I could keep being the person everybody thought I was.”
She stared at the candles.
“That sounds very stupid now that I’m saying it next to a cake with my face printed on sugar.”
I had not noticed the edible photograph until she mentioned it.
It was an old professional headshot of Emily smiling beside gold lettering.
Luis must have hated making it.
“I’m not telling you this because I want sympathy.”
Her voice became smaller.
“I think I’m telling you because I am tired.”
No perfect ending followed.
No applause.
Someone coughed.
A fork dropped near the back.
Emily looked suddenly unsure of what to do with her hands.
Then Megan stepped forward.
She did not hug her.
She only said, “You could have called me.”
Emily’s mouth tightened.
“I know.”
“You helped me move a sofa at midnight after Brian left.”
“That sofa was disgusting.”
“It was.”
“I hated that sofa.”
“I know.”
Megan nodded.
“You still could have called.”
Emily looked down.
“I know.”
That time, the words came out differently.
One person started clapping.
It was not dramatic applause.
It was awkward, uncertain.
Then other people joined.
Emily shook her head.
“No, please don’t.”
That made more people clap.
She laughed while crying, which made the room laugh with her.
It was messy.
It was probably the first honest thing that had happened at the party.
Then Robert walked toward her.
I tensed.
He did not speak.
He kissed the top of her head.
Emily froze.
He stepped away before she could react.
Diane followed, but instead of embracing her daughter, she straightened the loose strand of hair near Emily’s ear.
“You should have told us.”
Emily nodded.
“I know.”
Diane’s fingers lingered beside her cheek for a second.
Then she stepped back.
“Blow out the candles before the fire alarm embarrasses all of us.”
Emily laughed.
She bent over the cake.
Thirty-two flames disappeared at once.
People cheered.
The band started again.
Servers rolled in with dessert plates.
Within ninety seconds, the room returned to noise.
Human beings are good at that.
We survive unbearable moments partly by finding out who wants coffee.
I headed toward the service corridor.
Daniel followed me.
“Mr. Carter.”
“Jake.”
He nodded.
“Jake.”
We stopped near the coat check.
“I’ll reverse the payment.”
“Accounting can process it tonight.”
“I appreciate it.”
I looked at him.
“Why did you really pay?”
His eyes shifted toward the ballroom.
Emily was talking to Megan now.
“I told you.”
“No, you told me she needed time.”
Daniel rubbed his jaw.
“For three months, I kept telling myself I had done everything I could.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“It was.”
He gave a small, humorless smile.
“I recommended her for promotion six months before Vantage blew up.”
“Why?”
“Because she was good.”
He watched Emily.
“Very good.”
“Then why let her take the fall?”
His face tightened.
“That’s a cleaner version than what happened.”
“It sounds pretty clean from here.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
He leaned against the wall.
“The truth is, nobody sat in a room and said, ‘Let’s destroy Emily.’”
“I assumed not.”
“It was worse in a more ordinary way.”
That sentence caught me.
Daniel looked at the carpet.
“Everybody protected their piece.”
He counted with his fingers.
“Finance said the spending classifications came from strategy.”
“Strategy said the reporting came from accounts.”
“Leadership said they had never approved manual adjustments.”
“And you?”
“I said Emily managed the account.”
He looked up.
“That sentence did a lot of work.”
I said nothing.
He continued.
“I told myself it was technically true.”
“Was it?”
“Yes.”
“And misleading?”
“Yes.”
The admission sat between us.
Daniel exhaled.
“By the time I decided to clarify, she had already resigned.”
“So you felt guilty.”
“Yes.”
“That still doesn’t explain paying the bill.”
He looked through the ballroom doors.
“I saw her outside.”
His voice lowered.
“She looked the way she did the day she resigned.”
“What does that mean?”
“She looked like she was calculating how much humiliation she could survive before anyone noticed.”
That answer was specific enough to be true.
He pushed away from the wall.
“I thought money was the easiest thing I could fix.”
“Money usually is.”
He nodded.
“I’m starting to understand that.”
Priya appeared carrying a stack of signed banquet receipts.
“I need you for five minutes.”
I looked at Daniel.
“We’ll reverse it.”
“Thank you.”
He started toward the ballroom.
“Daniel.”
He turned.
“If Northline calls, don’t improvise.”
His brow furrowed.
“Meaning?”
“Tell the truth.”
“I plan to.”
“All of it.”
He looked at me for a moment.
Then he nodded.
May you like
“All of it.”
Priya waited until he was gone.
