Chương 7
Nora’s free hand curled against the washing machine.
Rachel heard the silence and began talking faster. “That came out wrong. I’m not saying it was okay. I’m saying I didn’t understand what he was doing until—”
“Until I put him down.”
“Yes.”
“Then you called the police.”
“Because you hit him.”
“He attacked me twice.”
“You looked like you could kill him.”
The dryer clicked as metal cooled inside it.
Nora said, “Send me the option agreement.”
“I don’t have it here.”
“Find it.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Find out what you gave them.”
“Nora, wait. Warren said he could help me cancel it if you post that Marcus was joking.”
There it was.
Not confusion. Not family resentment. A trade.
“Did Warren call you after the party?”
“Yes.”
“What else did he say?”
“That he could sue you. That Marcus’s shoulder might need surgery.”
“His shoulder is fine.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“You always think you know.”
Nora looked at the closed door between herself and Lily. “Send the agreement tonight.”
“And the post?”
“No.”
“He’ll come after both of us.”
“You invited him.”
“I made a mistake.”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to punish me forever?”
Nora’s laugh came out once, without humor. “It’s been five hours.”
She ended the call.
Lily had finished eating when Nora returned to the kitchen. She had also loaded her plate into the dishwasher, something she usually treated as a violation of childhood labor law.
“What did she say?” Lily asked.
“That she made a mistake.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Yes.”
Lily looked surprised.
“Believing it was a mistake doesn’t make it small.”
At eight that evening, Rachel emailed photographs of seven pages spread across a marble countertop. The option agreement was dense, badly photographed, and written to appear more ordinary than it was. Rachel had granted a Caldwell company the right to purchase her undivided interest in the property for a fixed amount during the next eighteen months. She had also agreed to cooperate with rezoning applications and not obstruct surveys, inspections, or easement negotiations.
The signature page was notarized.
Nora read it three times.
Then she called a lawyer.
The first firm wanted a five-thousand-dollar retainer. The second did not handle real estate litigation. The third connected her to an attorney named Priya Shah, who listened for ten minutes and said, “Your sister could create an expensive mess, but she cannot sell them your half.”
“Can they force a partition?”
“They can try after exercising the option. Whether the agreement is enforceable is another question.”
“Because she didn’t disclose my interest?”
“Because several provisions appear designed to transfer control beyond her share. Also, tell me about the five thousand dollars.”
Nora did.
“Was she under financial pressure they knew about?”
“I don’t know what the pressure was.”
“Find out. Do not threaten anyone, do not contact Warren Caldwell, and do not post about the agreement online.”
“The videos are already everywhere.”
“Then become boring immediately.”
Nora looked toward the living room, where Lily had fallen asleep sideways on the couch with one foot on the floor.
“I can do boring,” she said.
Priya gave a small laugh. “Everyone says that before the first angry email.”
On Monday morning, Nora entered Brookside Rehabilitation through the staff door and found her supervisor waiting beside the lockers.
Kim Alvarez was forty-six, practical, and usually impossible to surprise. She wore navy scrubs and held a printed screenshot from the video, which made the conversation feel more formal than either of them wanted.
“Tell me there isn’t more coming,” Kim said.
“There’s always more coming.”
“That is not the answer I hoped for.”
Nora put her lunch in the refrigerator. “He threatened me in front of Lily. Three videos show it.”
“I watched them.”
“Then what are we discussing?”
“Patients have watched them too. One canceled this morning because she said she didn’t want ‘the combat lady’ handling her shoulder.”
Nora sat on the bench. “I don’t handle anyone the way I handled him.”
“I know that. You know that. The internet is currently debating whether you’re secretly an assassin.”
“Combat medic.”
“I’m not putting that in the newsletter.”
Nora looked down at her boots. She had worn different ones today, soft-soled and black, but the shape of the gloves seemed to remain between them.
Kim sat beside her. “Corporate wants a statement. I told them you were defending yourself.”
“Thank you.”
“I also told them we should wait for the police report.”
“And?”
“They put you on paid administrative leave for three days.”
Nora’s first response was relief. That embarrassed her.
Three days without patients meant three days without anyone looking at her hands.
Then the practical cost arrived. Paid leave could become unpaid leave. A complaint could affect her certification, references, insurance coverage, any future job where the video appeared before her résumé.
“Do I need a lawyer for this too?”
“I hope not.”
“Kim.”
Her supervisor folded the screenshot in half. “A patient’s son called. He recognized you from the video and claimed you used excessive force on his father during a transfer last month.”
“That transfer had two staff members present.”
“I know.”
“The patient was falling.”
“I know.”
“I caught him.”
“I know, Nora.”
Kim’s repeated answer softened nothing. “Corporate has to review it.”
“Because of the video.”
“Because people are cowards when liability uses a complete sentence.”
That was the closest Kim came to profanity at work.
Nora changed back into her street clothes. On the drive home, she stopped at a red light and noticed a man in the next car holding his phone toward her. Maybe he was taking a photograph. Maybe he was checking directions. She turned left before the light changed and hated herself for it.
May you like
Lily was at school. Nora had three hours before pickup and no idea how to inhabit them.
She cleaned the kitchen. She tightened the loose hinge on the cabinet Lily had left open. She unfolded the towels from Saturday and discovered she had folded two fitted sheets without remembering the process. At eleven, Priya called.
