Part 7
“My sister saves everything,” she said. “These zippers work if you pull to the left.”
Avery’s belongings went into Molly’s apartment in Lexington because Wade had to leave his cottage by the end of the month and did not yet know where he was going.
On the final trip, Avery stood in her empty bedroom. The walls showed pale rectangles where framed photographs had hung. Through the window, the mansion’s upper balconies caught the last light.
“My first night here, Vivian brought me soup,” she said.
Wade leaned against the doorframe.
“You were sick?”
“I was nervous. I told her it was the flu.”
“She knew?”
“She knows what fear looks like. That’s why I kept thinking she might help me.”
“Maybe she wanted to.”
“That isn’t the same as helping.”
“No.”
Avery opened the closet, checked it again, and found nothing.
“I used to admire her,” she said. “She remembered everyone’s children. She paid Teresa during her husband’s treatments. She sent flowers when a groom’s father died.”
“She can be generous.”
“She watched me on the ground.”
Wade looked out the window.
“People can be generous when generosity doesn’t cost the thing they value most.”
“What does she value most?”
He thought of Vivian’s eyes searching the driveway.
“Control.”
Two days later, Vivian asked to meet Avery at a restaurant in Midway. Avery agreed only after Benton said she was legally free to do so and advised her not to discuss details without counsel. Molly called it a terrible idea. Wade called it Avery’s decision, which irritated Molly more.
They chose a café where the tables were close enough to discourage shouting. Vivian arrived in a camel coat, pearl earrings, and sunglasses despite the cloudy afternoon. She looked older without the mansion behind her.
Avery kept her phone on the table. It was a replacement Molly had lent her.
Vivian noticed.
“I am not recording you,” Avery said.
“I didn’t ask.”
“You looked.”
Vivian removed her gloves finger by finger.
“I came to apologize for not calling medical help immediately.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I was frightened.”
“Of Grant?”
Vivian looked toward the window.
“Of consequences.”
A server approached. Vivian ordered tea. Avery ordered nothing.
“I have spent forty years protecting that farm,” Vivian said after the server left. “Not the house. The institution. Families depend on it.”
“Mine apparently didn’t.”
“That is unfair.”
Avery’s expression remained steady.
Vivian touched the edge of her saucer. “Grant did not intend for you to be hurt.”
Avery stopped breathing for a moment.
“You said he didn’t touch me.”
“I said no such thing.”
“His statement did.”
“His statement said you fell.”
“Did I?”
Vivian’s fingers tightened around the saucer.
“I saw you outside.”
“After what?”
“I heard an argument.”
“Did he take my phone?”
“I did not see him take it.”
“Did he put his hands on me?”
“Avery.”
“Did he?”
Vivian’s eyes filled, but the tears did not fall. “He was trying to stop you from leaving with confidential material.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It is the truth as I understand it.”
Avery leaned back.
“Why did you ask the office to harmonize Queen’s Mercy’s records?”
Vivian’s face changed.
“I was told there were duplicate entries and clerical inconsistencies.”
“You knew there was a new ultrasound.”
“I knew there had been imaging.”
“You knew it was excluded.”
“I was assured it was not material to the sale.”
“By Grant?”
“By people whose expertise I relied upon.”
“Grant.”
Vivian lifted her chin. “The farm is carrying debt you cannot imagine. My husband borrowed against land that had been free of liens for three generations. Grant discovered the extent only after his father died.”
“That doesn’t make false records true.”
“No. But it changes the context.”
“It changes your motive.”
Vivian’s mouth tightened.
“A cancellation would trigger consequences beyond one transaction. Creditors. Payroll. Breeding contracts. Seasonal workers. Pension obligations. You think truth occurs in a clean room where only guilty people suffer.”
“I think you left me beside the steps.”
The tea arrived. The server set it down carefully and asked if they needed anything else. Vivian thanked her with such politeness that Avery almost laughed.
After the server left, Vivian said, “What do you want?”
“My phone returned. The records corrected. Grant held responsible.”
“Responsible in what way?”
“That is not mine to decide.”
“You have already decided.”
“No. I decided to stop helping him lie.”
Vivian looked at the replacement phone again.
“The separation package remains available,” she said. “It is enough to give you time to recover and find another position.”
“In exchange for saying I fell.”
“In exchange for ending a public conflict that will hurt people who had nothing to do with this.”
Avery stood.
Vivian’s voice followed her. “You will not be untouched by it.”
Avery looked down at her.
“I’m already not.”
Outside, Wade waited in the truck across the street. He had promised not to enter unless Avery texted. When she climbed in, he handed her a paper cup of coffee.
“I ordered tea,” she said.
“You never drink tea.”
“I didn’t drink it.”
“How bad?”
“She apologized for the delay.”
“Not for what happened.”
“No.”
Wade started the engine.
Avery held the coffee between both hands. “She admitted Grant was trying to stop me from leaving with records.”
“Exactly?”
“Close enough that Benton will care.”
“Did you record it?”
“No.”
He glanced at her.
“I told Vivian I wasn’t recording.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I wasn’t.”
Wade nodded.
Avery looked out at the storefronts. “Was that stupid?”
“Maybe.”
“You could say no.”
“Wouldn’t make it true.”
She took a sip and grimaced. “This is terrible.”
“It’s gas station coffee.”
“You bought bad coffee while waiting to rescue me from a rich woman.”
“I was not rescuing you.”
“Good. Because you would have needed better coffee.”
The laugh came unexpectedly and hurt her head. She pressed two fingers to her temple, still smiling a little.
May you like
Wade drove slowly out of town.
Three days after the meeting, Ashbourne announced the suspension of its private sale of Queen’s Mercy. The buyer’s representatives had received anonymous copies of the conflicting records. Grant blamed Avery.
