Chương 5
Richard let out a breath.
“You think I’m trying to buy your silence.”
“I think somebody in your building is.”
“It isn’t me.”
“Okay.”
She said it without believing him.
Richard disliked that more than open accusation.
“Keep the check.”
“No.”
“You lost work because of what happened at my event.”
“My son caused what happened.”
“My daughter made her own decision.”
Danielle stared at him.
Richard heard himself.
The sentence sounded different outside his head.
Danielle said, “Does she get to do that often?”
He went still.
“That is not your concern.”
She almost smiled.
“Your daughter said the same thing to my son.”
Richard looked toward the window.
“I suppose I deserved that.”
“Probably.”
For a few seconds they stood in uncomfortable silence.
Danielle picked up the check.
She tore it in half.
Richard winced.
“You could have just given it back.”
“I wanted to enjoy something today.”
That surprised a laugh out of him.
It lasted less than a second.
Danielle put the pieces on the table.
“Eli wants to know if Sophie’s okay.”
“She’s fine.”
“Is she?”
Richard looked at her.
“No.”
Danielle nodded.
“That sounds more believable.”
“She’s insisting on restarting therapy.”
“Are you going to let her?”
The question irritated him instantly.
“I don’t require permission from strangers to make medical decisions for my child.”
“No.”
Danielle pulled her keys from her pocket.
“But maybe your child should be in the conversation.”
She headed toward the door.
Richard said, “Ms. Carter.”
She turned.
“I’m sorry you lost your work.”
“So am I.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
That was somehow worse.
The Foundation board meeting took place the following morning.
Richard entered expecting money problems.
He got morality packaged as public relations.
The Bennett Family Foundation funded pediatric rehabilitation programs, mobility equipment grants, and caregiver assistance in four states. Richard had founded it after Anna’s death because doing something had seemed easier than grieving.
For years, people praised him for it.
Now the same foundation risked becoming attached to a viral video suggesting that a disabled child had simply needed courage and a poor boy’s encouragement to overcome a wheelchair.
Dr. Naomi Patel, the only physician on the board, said it first.
“We need to kill the miracle language.”
Richard looked down the table.
“I didn’t create it.”
“No, but people are attaching your name to it.”
A board member from Chicago said, “We can issue a statement.”
“Good.”
“Something positive.”
Naomi’s eyes narrowed.
“What does positive mean?”
“Hopeful.”
“Hopeful can become medically irresponsible in about six words.”
The communications director, Howard Finch, cleared his throat.
“We’re already getting requests from families asking whether Sophie received a treatment we fund.”
Richard looked at him.
“What?”
“Some think Eli is part of a program.”
“He’s nine.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then why would anyone think—”
“Because the internet is not a committee meeting, Richard.”
Naomi folded her arms.
“We say exactly what happened. Sophie stood briefly. She remains a wheelchair user. One event does not represent a cure, prognosis, treatment, or universal experience.”
Richard nodded.
“Fine.”
Howard hesitated.
“There’s another issue.”
Richard waited.
“The Carter boy.”
“What about him?”
“Reporters found the motel.”
Richard’s stomach tightened.
“How?”
“Nobody knows.”
“Did anyone here release his name?”
Silence.
Howard said, “The hotel incident log may have circulated.”
Richard looked around the table.
“Find out.”
“Richard—”
“Find out.”
That afternoon, Danielle returned from a cleaning shift and found two reporters in the motel parking lot.
Eli was inside with the door locked.
She saw the cameras before they saw her.
For a moment she considered driving away.
Then one recognized her car.
Danielle had made the mistake of parking at the gala employee lot where a photographer had captured her license plate behind Eli the night of the incident.
She pulled into the motel space.
The reporters approached.
“Ms. Carter?”
She stayed inside.
“Ms. Carter, can we ask you about your son?”
She stared ahead.
“Did he know Sophie Bennett before the gala?”
Danielle started the engine again.
One stepped closer.
“Is it true Eli has helped other disabled children?”
She turned toward him.
“What?”
The microphone came up.
“People online are calling him a healer.”
Danielle rolled the window down three inches.
“He is a fourth grader.”
“Did he receive any medical training from a family member?”
“No.”
“Was his father a doctor?”
“No.”
“Where is his father?”
The window went back up.
Danielle reversed so quickly the reporter stumbled away from the car.
She drove two blocks before pulling over.
Her hands would not stop shaking.
She called Richard Bennett.
He answered personally.
“This is Richard.”
“You wanted to handle something?”
He recognized her voice.
“What happened?”
“There are cameras outside our room.”
His silence lasted half a second.
“Is Eli with you?”
“He’s inside.”
“Don’t go back.”
She laughed once.
Sharp.
“Where exactly do you suggest we go?”
Richard looked around his office as if the answer might be stored there.
“I can arrange a hotel.”
“No.”
“Ms. Carter—”
“Not one your company owns. Not one your people pay for. Not one where somebody takes a picture and decides I sold my kid.”
Richard stood.
“Then tell me where you are. I’ll send security to clear them.”
“That will look normal.”
He shut his eyes.
She was right.
He hated when she was right.
“Call the police if they block access.”
“They’re standing on a public sidewalk.”
Richard paced once around his desk.
“I’ll have Howard contact their editors.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because then tomorrow the story is billionaire threatens reporters covering miracle boy.”
Richard stopped.
“You’ve thought about this.”
“I’ve spent all day thinking about things I never wanted to think about.”
Richard leaned against the desk.
“I’m sorry.”
Danielle didn’t answer.
He said, “For what it’s worth, I’m trying to find out how they got his name.”
“For what it’s worth, Sophie’s name got him on television. His address got him in danger.”
Richard had no response.
May you like
A long silence passed.
Then Danielle said, quieter, “He wants to talk to her.”
