Chương 13
Contain the scandal.
Get the lawyers in a room.
Control the story.
My father had trained me to solve every crisis by asking what could still be preserved.
I looked at Grace.
“I’m going to stop protecting her.”
She searched my face.
“That sounds good.”
“It’s also vague.”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“So here’s the specific version.”
I took my phone out.
“I give Patel access to my company email, family office records, security contracts, and every communication my mother sent me while I was away.”
Grace watched me carefully.
“I waive whatever privilege I can waive personally.”
“You’ll hurt your own company.”
“Yes.”
“You could expose things that have nothing to do with me.”
“Yes.”
“Your board will panic.”
“Yes.”
She studied me for several seconds.
“You’re not saying any of that like you understand it.”
“I understand it.”
“Do you?”
I looked down at Noah.
“No.”
Then I looked back at her.
“But I understand what happens if I keep choosing the family’s safety over yours.”
Grace did not answer.
I called Patel before I could become clever enough to change my mind.
When he returned, I gave him what access I could authorize immediately and told him my attorneys would receive instructions to preserve everything.
He asked if I understood the possible consequences.
I said yes.
Grace watched the whole exchange without smiling.
After Patel left, she said, “That was expensive.”
“Probably.”
“You hate losing money.”
“I hate losing stupid money.”
“What’s stupid money?”
“Money lost because someone else was smarter.”
She almost smiled.
“This is worse.”
“Yes.”
Noah woke and began crying.
Grace lifted him, but he kept fussing.
She looked at me.
“Try.”
I took him.
He cried harder.
Grace raised an eyebrow.
“Excellent work.”
“I’m building trust.”
“With whom?”
“Unclear.”
I shifted him against my chest and walked slowly around the room.
His crying softened after a minute.
Grace watched.
Then her face changed.
“What?”
She was looking at my coat.
“Your pocket.”
I reached inside.
My fingers touched metal.
Her ring.
I had forgotten moving it from the car into my coat when I followed the ambulance.
I pulled it out.
Grace stared at it.
Neither of us spoke.
I stepped toward her, then stopped.
She held out her hand.
I placed the ring in her palm.
She closed her fingers around it.
For a moment I thought she might put it on.
She didn’t.
She set it carefully on the bedside table beside the plastic water cup.
“I’m not ready.”
“I know.”
Her eyes lifted to mine.
“But I don’t want her to have it.”
I nodded.
Noah made a small sigh against my chest.
Grace reached for him.
I passed him back.
The ring stayed between us on the table, not worn, not discarded, and for that morning, that was enough.
By noon, the hospital had moved Grace and Noah into a private postpartum room on a quieter floor.
The security officer remained outside.
Grace pretended not to notice him every time the door opened.
I noticed everything.
Every pair of footsteps in the hall made my shoulders tighten.
Every unfamiliar voice near the nurses’ station made me look up.
By the third time, Grace said, “You’re making me nervous.”
I stopped staring at the door.
“Sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No.”
She adjusted Noah against her chest.
“At least you’re improving.”
My phone buzzed again.
This time it was Patel.
I stepped toward the window before answering.
“We found something in the backup footage.”
I looked at Grace.
She was watching me.
“What?”
“Your mother entered the west wing repeatedly over the last two weeks.”
“That isn’t surprising.”
“No.”
Patel paused.
“What is surprising is who entered with her.”
I waited.
“Your executive assistant.”
Rebecca.
My stomach tightened.
“When?”
“Four days ago.”
“Did she go into the room?”
“We can’t see the actual doorway from the camera angle.”
“How long was she in the corridor?”
“Thirty-six minutes.”
Grace had heard enough to understand.
“What is it?”
I put the phone on speaker.
Patel repeated himself.
Grace’s face changed.
“She told me she had never been to the house.”
I turned toward the phone.
“When?”
“The day your mother showed me the separation papers.”
Grace’s voice became quiet.
“She said Rebecca had emailed them to her.”
Patel said, “We’re on our way to speak with her now.”
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“She told me last night she only knew something was wrong after my mother called her.”
“She may have lied.”
Grace looked at me.
“Or someone made her.”
Patel said, “That’s also possible.”
He had a way of refusing easy conclusions that irritated me and reassured me at the same time.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
His tone changed.
“The prepaid phone recovered from the estate was found in a trash compactor behind the service kitchen.”
“You found it?”
“Damaged, but not destroyed.”
Grace sat straighter.
“Can you recover anything?”
“Our digital team will try.”
“What was it used for?”
“We don’t know yet.”
I thought of the duplicate phone used to impersonate me.
My mother had not needed three devices for one lie.
“Keep me updated.”
Patel ended the call.
Grace looked toward the bedside table.
Her ring remained beside the water cup.
“You trusted Rebecca.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Too much, apparently.”
“That’s not an answer.”
I sat in the chair by the bed.
“She had access to almost everything.”
“Your passwords?”
“Some.”
“Your travel calendar?”
“Yes.”
“Your contracts?”
“Most.”
“Your messages?”
“No.”
I hesitated.
“Not personal messages.”
Grace gave me a look.
“That hesitation was loud.”
“She could access my work phone remotely through the company system.”
“So personal messages might have been visible.”
“Possibly.”
Grace looked away.
I hated the word as soon as I said it.
“Why would you give one person that much access?”
“Because I was gone constantly.”
“That’s still not a reason.”
“It was convenient.”
Grace nodded.
There was no cruelty in it.
May you like
“That’s how this family does dangerous things, isn’t it?”
I looked at her.
