Chương 4
Genevieve looked away.
The words still had power.
Not because she believed them.
Because she remembered hearing strangers repeat them.
“She knew she was losing control,” Marcus had said on the witness stand.
“She was angry about Victoria.”
Genevieve had stared at him from across the courtroom.
Not because he betrayed her.
Because she had once liked him.
Marcus had been one of the few people at Sterling Holdings who treated employees like human beings.
He remembered birthdays.
He stayed late when younger workers needed help.
He once brought Genevieve soup when she worked through a fever.
That version of him did not fit with the person who helped send her away.
“Maybe he wants forgiveness,” Eleanor said.
“Maybe.”
“Do you trust him?”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
Eleanor nodded.
“Good.”
“You really enjoy agreeing with my suspicion.”
“I enjoy you not ignoring warning signs.”
The next morning, Genevieve arrived at the coffee shop ten minutes early.
She chose a table near the window.
Not because she wanted to watch the street.
Because she wanted to see anyone approaching before they reached her.
Old habits from prison had followed her outside.
She hated that.
She also understood why.
At 8:03, Marcus walked in.
He looked different from the man she remembered.
His expensive suits were gone.
His hair was longer.
There were shadows beneath his eyes.
He noticed her and stopped.
For a moment, he looked like he might leave.
Then he walked over.
“Thank you for coming.”
Genevieve did not stand.
“You asked me to.”
Marcus sat down.
The waitress came over.
He ordered black coffee.
Genevieve remembered he used to drink coffee with too much cream and sugar.
Small details stayed.
Sometimes they stayed when bigger things failed.
“You look like you hate me,” Marcus said.
“I spent two years hearing your voice tell strangers I was dangerous.”
He lowered his eyes.
“I know.”
“No.”
Her voice was quiet.
“You know what happened to you.”
She leaned forward.
“You do not know what happened to me.”
Marcus accepted that without defending himself.
That surprised her.
“I was wrong.”
Genevieve waited.
People apologized in many ways.
Some apologized because they wanted forgiveness.
Some apologized because they wanted the discomfort to end.
She had learned the difference.
“I testified because Julian told me the company was finished if he went down,” Marcus said.
“That is not an excuse.”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“The reason.”
He wrapped both hands around his coffee cup.
“I was afraid.”
Genevieve looked at him.
“You were the CFO of a billion-dollar company.”
“I was a man with a mortgage, a sick mother, and a fear of losing everything I built.”
“You had money.”
“I had a position.”
He looked up.
“They are not the same thing.”
The answer bothered her because it sounded true.
Not enough to forgive him.
But enough to listen.
“What did Julian have on you?”
Marcus looked toward the window.
“I signed documents I should have questioned.”
“What documents?”
“Financial transfers.”
Genevieve’s attention sharpened.
“Between which companies?”
Marcus hesitated.
There it was.
The hesitation.
The place where fear lived.
“Several subsidiaries.”
“Names.”
“I do not remember all of them.”
She watched him carefully.
A lie would be useful.
The truth would be messy.
Messy usually felt more real.
“One of them was called Hayes Medical Consulting.”
Victoria.
Genevieve did not move.
“What does Victoria have to do with Sterling Holdings?”
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
“I do not know everything.”
“But you know something.”
“Yes.”
The coffee shop noise seemed louder suddenly.
A blender started behind the counter.
Someone laughed near the entrance.
A child dropped a spoon and apologized to a stranger.
The world continued while Genevieve’s old life shifted.
“Julian was moving money before the trial,” Marcus said.
“How much?”
“Enough that I became nervous.”
“Nervous enough to lie in court?”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
The honesty was almost worse.
Genevieve looked down at the table.
She wanted anger.
Anger was easier.
But what she felt was exhaustion.
Everyone had a reason.
Everyone had a story.
Everyone had a moment where they decided protecting themselves mattered more than protecting her.
“Why tell me now?”
Marcus did not answer immediately.
When he did, his voice was lower.
“Because yesterday I received a letter.”
“From who?”
“My former assistant.”
Genevieve waited.
“She disappeared after the trial.”
“Disappeared?”
“She quit.”
“That is not disappearing.”
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
“Not everyone leaves by choice.”
Genevieve felt a chill.
“What was in the letter?”
“A copy of a spreadsheet.”
“Where is it?”
“I do not have it.”
Her expression changed.
“Then why are we talking?”
“Because I memorized enough.”
She almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because it sounded impossible.
“You memorized a spreadsheet?”
“I memorized the parts that scared me.”
“What parts?”
Marcus looked at her.
“Payments made three days before Victoria’s accident.”
The room seemed to narrow.
“Payments to whom?”
Marcus swallowed.
“An investigator.”
“Private investigator?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I do not know.”
Genevieve stared at him.
“You expect me to believe Julian hired an investigator before the accident?”
“I expect you to believe that I was too afraid to ask why.”
The answer sat between them.
A terrible possibility.
Not a conclusion.
Not proof.
Just a door opening.
Genevieve wrote the information down.
Marcus watched her.
“You still do that.”
“What?”
“Write everything.”
She looked at the notebook.
“I stopped trusting my memory.”
Marcus nodded slowly.
“I stopped trusting mine.”
When they left the coffee shop, Genevieve felt different.
Not hopeful.
Hope was dangerous when it arrived too early.
But she felt something she had not felt in a long time.
Movement.
Her phone vibrated before she reached the car.
A message from an unknown number.
Do not meet with Marcus again.
She stopped walking.
Eleanor, who had been waiting nearby, noticed immediately.
“What happened?”
Genevieve handed her the phone.
Eleanor read the message twice.
“Did anyone see you with Marcus?”
“No.”
May you like
“Are you sure?”
Genevieve looked back at the coffee shop.
