Chương 6
Arthur rolled his eyes.
“Oh, Christ.”
“You did.”
“I encouraged her.”
“You ranked us.”
“I had two different daughters.”
“You had one daughter you admired and one you found useful.”
The sentence left my mouth before I could stop it.
Arthur’s face went still.
A pulse moved in his neck.
Fiona looked at me differently.
Not kindly.
Just differently.
“I never asked him to do that,” she said.
“I know.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.”
“You blame me for everything.”
“I blamed you for a lot of it.”
The lawn mower in the distance stopped.
The sudden quiet made the range feel smaller.
I could hear music from the party again, some upbeat song continuing without us.
“I don’t anymore,” I said.
Fiona’s expression tightened.
“That sounds generous.”
“It isn’t.”
Arthur walked away from us and leaned both hands against the wooden counter beneath the range awning.
He stared toward the targets.
“Can we get back to the point?”
Raymond said, “We never left it.”
Arthur ignored him.
He turned to Fiona.
“Tell them.”
She went pale.
“Dad.”
“Tell them what happened.”
Her eyes widened.
For the first time, I wondered whether I had been wrong about the look between them.
Maybe he wasn’t afraid of being exposed.
Maybe he was afraid Fiona would expose herself.
She shook her head.
“No.”
Arthur slapped his palm against the counter.
“Goddammit, Fiona.”
Donovan flinched.
Fiona didn’t.
“You said you’d handle it,” she whispered.
Arthur closed his eyes.
There it was.
Not a confession.
Not yet.
But enough to change the air.
Donovan’s face hardened.
“Handle what?”
Fiona stared at her father.
Arthur turned around slowly.
“This has gotten completely out of proportion.”
Raymond said, “That’s usually what people say right before explaining something proportional.”
Arthur glared at him.
Raymond lifted one shoulder.
“Sorry.”
He didn’t sound sorry.
Arthur pointed toward the folder.
“The credential issue started because Fiona was promised a retraining slot that kept getting bumped.”
I frowned.
“That isn’t in the record.”
“Of course it isn’t.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because people cover their asses.”
Fiona looked down.
Arthur continued.
“She had an instructor who treated her like garbage, a scheduling mess, and then your mother got sick.”
I felt my stomach tighten again.
“Don’t use Mom.”
“I’m telling you what happened.”
“You weren’t at those appointments either.”
His face hardened.
“That’s got nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with how easily both of you keep borrowing her illness.”
Fiona shut her eyes.
Arthur took a step toward me.
“Watch yourself.”
Raymond straightened.
Donovan moved between us before I could react.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
Arthur noticed.
His expression changed from anger to insult.
“You think I’m going to hit her?”
Donovan said nothing.
“That what you think?”
“I think everybody needs to stay where they are.”
Arthur laughed.
It was ugly.
“You people come into my home—”
“Dad.”
Fiona’s voice cut through him.
He stopped.
She looked exhausted now.
Not frightened.
Not defiant.
Just exhausted.
“I asked him to help.”
Donovan turned toward her.
She stared at the ground.
“I asked Dad to call someone.”
“Who?”
“A guy he knew.”
Arthur said, “Fiona.”
She ignored him.
“Someone who used to work with training administration.”
My pulse quickened.
“What name?”
“I don’t know if I should—”
“You should.”
She looked at me.
“Cal Mercer.”
The name meant nothing immediately.
Then a memory surfaced from the discrepancy packet.
A routing note.
Initials.
C.M.
I opened the folder again.
Arthur swore under his breath.
“Cal couldn’t issue anything.”
Fiona said, “I know.”
“He just helped push the correction.”
“That’s what you told me.”
Arthur’s face tightened.
Donovan looked at Fiona.
“What did you think was being corrected?”
She rubbed her ring again.
“My status.”
“From failed to passed?”
“No.”
“What, then?”
She swallowed.
“From incomplete to provisional.”
I flipped through the pages.
“There is no provisional category for this credential.”
“I know that now.”
“You work in the same system.”
“Not your part of it.”
“You still knew you hadn’t passed.”
Her eyes flashed.
“I knew I hadn’t been given a fair final attempt.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“To you.”
“To the credentialing standard.”
“There.”
She almost smiled.
“That’s you.”
I let the insult pass.
“What did Mercer submit?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you give him anything?”
“No.”
Arthur said, “She didn’t deal with Cal.”
I looked at him.
“You did.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I talked to him.”
“How many times?”
“Couple.”
“Phone?”
“Yes.”
“Email?”
Arthur hesitated.
Fiona looked at him.
“Dad.”
“I sent him the stuff he asked for.”
“What stuff?”
“Copies.”
“Of what?”
“Her evaluations.”
My grip tightened on the folder.
“Where did you get them?”
Fiona answered.
“I gave them to him.”
Arthur shot her a look.
Donovan closed his eyes briefly.
The engagement ring on Fiona’s hand caught the range light as she folded her arms.
I could almost see the future problem forming around us.
Not just the badge.
Not just the lie.
The documents.
The access.
The altered submission.
The fact that none of us knew yet who had changed what.
“Did you alter any page before giving it to Dad?”
I asked.
“No.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
Arthur said, “Absolutely not.”
Raymond spoke from beside the cabinet.
“Then someone downstream did.”
Nobody contradicted him.
Donovan looked at Fiona.
“Did you know the badge was coming?”
She took a long time to answer.
“I knew Dad said it was handled.”
“What does that mean?”
“He said the record had been corrected.”
“And when the badge arrived?”
“I thought it meant the appeal had gone through.”
I stared at her.
“You thought you had been awarded a credential for a qualification you never completed.”
She looked at me.
“I thought they recognized what happened.”
“That isn’t how qualifications work.”
“I know that now.”
“When did you know?”
Silence.
That mattered more than anything she had said.
“Fiona.”
May you like
She looked toward the targets.
Donovan’s voice was barely above a whisper.
