Chương 13
"It may involve my company."
"Then investigate that privately."
"If they've been approaching Merritt—"
"Privately."
My voice sharpened.
He stopped.
I continued.
"Clarissa assaulted me."
"Yes."
"Natasha helped humiliate me."
"Yes."
"Brandon failed me."
He nodded.
"Their debt is not my revenge."
My father stared at me for several seconds.
Howard looked out the windshield.
Finally my father said, "You sound like your mother again."
"Still annoying?"
"Extremely."
We reached his townhouse just after one in the morning.
The security staff had already closed the front gate.
Two reporters stood across the street despite the hour.
The SUV entered through the garage beneath the building.
Inside, everything looked almost exactly as it had two years earlier.
The same brass umbrella stand near the service entrance.
The same narrow rug my mother had once complained was impossible to vacuum.
The same framed black-and-white photographs lining the hall.
I stopped in front of one without meaning to.
My mother and I were sitting on the kitchen floor.
She was laughing.
I had flour in my hair.
I could not remember who had taken it.
My father stopped beside me.
"Your twenty-first birthday."
I looked at him.
"We made ravioli."
"You destroyed the kitchen."
"Mom destroyed the kitchen."
"You assisted enthusiastically."
I smiled despite myself.
Then my phone rang.
Not buzzed.
Rang.
Brandon.
I stared at his name.
My father looked at the screen.
"Don't."
Howard had followed us inside.
He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"I would actually answer."
My father turned.
"What?"
Howard put his glasses back on.
"If Natasha is telling Emma one version and Brandon another, we need to understand what happened before more material appears."
"I am not interrogating him for you."
Howard looked at me.
"Nor should you."
"Then why answer?"
"Because you may want to hear what he says before someone else edits it for public consumption."
That was fair.
I hated that too.
I answered and put the call on speaker.
"Hello."
Brandon's breathing came through first.
Then his voice.
"Emma, I screwed up."
My father rolled his eyes.
Howard ignored him.
"I know."
"No, worse than I told you."
My stomach tightened.
"How?"
A pause.
"I didn't just send the screenshots."
I closed my eyes.
"What else did you send?"
"My friend asked for proof that I didn't know who you were."
I opened my eyes.
"So?"
"I sent him our texts."
The room went still.
"Which texts?"
Another pause.
"Months of them."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"Brandon."
"I thought he needed context."
"You sent private messages between us to a stranger."
"He's not a stranger to me."
"He is to me."
"I know."
"No, apparently you don't."
My father stepped forward.
Howard blocked him with one arm.
Brandon spoke quickly.
"I told him not to use anything personal."
I laughed.
It was not pleasant.
"What did you think personal meant?"
"Emma, listen."
"No."
My voice rose.
"You've spent this entire night deciding which parts of my life other people are allowed to see."
"I was trying to protect myself."
"I know."
He went quiet.
That admission hurt him more than accusation would have.
I walked into the sitting room and sat on the edge of a chair.
"Did he leak our messages?"
"I don't know."
"Can he?"
"Yes."
"Does he still have them?"
"Yes."
I looked at Howard.
He was already taking out his phone.
"Name," he said.
Brandon hesitated.
"Who was that?"
"Howard."
"Why is he listening?"
"Because I put you on speaker."
"Oh."
"Name."
Brandon exhaled.
"Evan Mercer."
Howard typed.
"Company?"
"Northstar Reputation Group."
Howard stopped typing.
His face changed.
My father noticed.
"What?"
Howard looked at him.
"Northstar consulted for Merritt Capital last year."
Nobody spoke.
Even Brandon went silent on the phone.
Then he whispered, "What?"
Howard's expression hardened.
"Your friend may not have been helping you get ahead of anything."
My father stepped closer.
"He may have been collecting exactly what Merritt wanted."
Brandon said nothing for so long that I checked whether the call had dropped.
It had not.
Howard was already walking toward the study, phone in hand.
My father followed him.
I stayed in the sitting room with Brandon breathing on speaker.
"Did you know?" I asked.
"No."
"About Northstar and Merritt."
"No."
"Did Evan know who I was?"
Another pause.
"I told him."
I closed my eyes.
"Of course you did."
"I was panicking."
"That keeps being your explanation."
"I know."
"No, Brandon, panic explains speed."
I looked at the dark window across the room.
"It doesn't explain why every decision you made protected you first."
He did not answer.
That was answer enough.
Howard returned with his glasses pushed up into his hair.
"I've reached our outside counsel."
My father came behind him.
"Northstar's prior work for Merritt doesn't prove anything."
Howard nodded.
"But it is enough that nobody contacts Mercer directly until counsel preserves the relevant communications."
Brandon's voice sharpened through the phone.
"Can I call him?"
"No," three of us said at once.
For one strange second, the timing almost made me laugh.
I did not.
Howard took the phone from my hand.
"Brandon, listen carefully."
"Okay."
"Do not delete messages."
"I won't."
"Do not contact Mercer."
"Okay."
"Do not contact your mother about this."
A longer pause.
"Why?"
"Because if there is an innocent explanation, preserving the record helps everyone."
"And if there isn't?"
Howard looked at my father.
"Then preserving the record helps even more."
Brandon swallowed audibly.
"Am I in trouble?"
Howard handed the phone back to me.
"That is not a question I can answer for you."
Brandon said my name.
I stared at the screen.
"What?"
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
"No, I mean about all of it."
"I know."
"I loved you."
The words hurt less this time.
Maybe because I finally understood that love and courage were not the same thing.
Maybe because love could be real and still be insufficient.
May you like
"I loved you too."
My father looked away.
