Chương 8
“I know some versions of him,” Claire said.
“Not at home.”
The sentence sharpened Claire’s attention.
“Has he frightened you?”
“Not like that.”
“Has he hit you?”
“No. Never.”
“Has he hit your mother?”
“No.”
“Thrown things?”
“A glass once. Not at anyone.”
Claire noted the distinction and disliked how practiced it sounded.
“I can be there when you tell him,” she said.
“Mom will say I betrayed her.”
“Your mother asked you to protect her from the consequences of her choice.”
“She was scared.”
“Yes.”
“She thought we were losing the house.”
“Are you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then there are other truths your parents need to tell you.”
Sophie gave a dry, unhappy laugh. “Everyone keeps protecting me.”
“How is that going?”
Sophie wiped her cheek with the heel of her hand. “Badly.”
They agreed to meet Saturday morning at Claire’s apartment. Sophie would tell Eric what happened. Claire would not invite Vanessa without Sophie’s permission, but she warned that excluding her might create a second version of the conversation before they finished the first.
After the call, Claire authorized the bracelet repair.
She did not tell Sophie.
On Friday afternoon, Eric’s assistant called Claire’s office.
Claire had met Natalie twice at company holiday dinners. She was efficient, pleasant, and never used five words where three would do.
“Eric asked me to send you a financial summary for the Harrison project,” Natalie said.
“He did?”
“He said you were reviewing bridge options.”
Claire sat back. “I am not.”
A pause. “I see.”
“Did he ask you to say that?”
“He asked me to send the file.”
“Do not send it.”
“All right.”
“Natalie, is Harrison a company project or Eric’s personal project?”
“I’m not authorized to discuss that.”
“That answers more than you intended.”
“I suspected it might.”
Claire heard office noise behind her: a copier, muted voices, someone laughing down a hallway.
“Is he there?” Claire asked.
“He left for a meeting.”
“With whom?”
“I’m not authorized—”
“I know.”
Natalie lowered her voice. “You should speak directly with him.”
“I have tried.”
“Try before Monday.”
The call ended.
Claire searched public business records, then stopped herself after ten minutes. She was not Eric’s accountant, attorney, lender, or investigator. The boundary felt reasonable until she imagined Sophie’s tuition application sitting unopened while a deadline shortened.
She called Denise Park.
Denise answered from what sounded like a restaurant kitchen.
“I’m eating noodles,” she said. “If this is about Northlight, say yes, no, or lawsuit.”
“Possibly no. Not lawsuit.”
“Go.”
Claire explained the termination, the family’s finances, and Natalie’s call.
Denise listened without interrupting.
When Claire finished, Denise said, “Do not review any investment documents without an engagement letter.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“I was thinking about whether he’s in trouble.”
“He is forty-six. Trouble can contact him directly.”
“Sophie is sixteen.”
“Sophie is not Harrison.”
“I don’t know what Harrison is.”
“Good. Preserve that condition.”
Claire smiled faintly.
Denise continued, “As trustee, you can terminate an annual discretionary sponsorship. The academy may be unhappy, but the documents are clear. As sister, aunt, and owner of a recently damaged heirloom, your situation is less tidy.”
“Helpful.”
“I charge extra for comfort.”
“What if I reconsider the sponsorship?”
“Then reconsider because you believe funding Sophie is right, not because Eric creates an emergency large enough to erase your boundaries.”
Claire looked at the rain beginning against her office window.
“What if the emergency is real?”
“Most manipulative emergencies are real. That’s why they work.”
On Saturday, Eric arrived at Claire’s apartment alone.
He wore jeans, a navy sweater, and the expression of a man who had not slept. Without the suit, he looked younger and more like the brother who used to eat cereal from mixing bowls because regular bowls required refilling.
“Where’s Sophie?” he asked.
“On her way.”
“You said ten.”
“It’s nine fifty-seven.”
He glanced at the clock and took off his coat.
Claire had moved the bracelet pieces from the desk. The sponsorship form remained in a folder beside her laptop.
Eric noticed the empty space.
“You sent it for repair?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“I’ll pay.”
“No.”
He looked around for somewhere to put his coat, though the hook beside the door was visible.
Claire took it and hung it up.
“Coffee?” she asked.
“No.”
She poured him a cup anyway and set it on the table. He did not touch it.
“What did Natalie call you about?” he asked.
“Harrison.”
“She misunderstood.”
“She sounded precise.”
“I told her you might look at a bridge structure.”
“I won’t.”
“I didn’t ask you to invest.”
“You asked your assistant to send me a financial summary.”
“Because you keep asking questions.”
“Answering them is usually faster.”
He walked to the window. “Harrison is a redevelopment deal.”
“Your firm’s?”
“A separate group.”
“Yours?”
“I have an interest.”
“How much?”
He turned. “Why does it matter?”
“Because your daughter may lose her school while you wait for it to close.”
“It will close.”
“When?”
“Six to eight weeks.”
“After the financial aid deadline.”
“We don’t need aid.”
Claire folded her arms.
He looked away.
The buzzer sounded.
Sophie came upstairs carrying her violin case, though she had no lesson that morning. Claire suspected she brought it because walking into difficult rooms felt easier with something in her hand.
She entered, saw her father, and stopped.
“You came,” Eric said.
“You told me to.”
“I told you we needed to talk.”
“So did Aunt Claire.”
His eyes moved between them. “You two have been discussing me.”
“We’ve been discussing me,” Sophie said.
Claire watched Eric register the difference.
They sat in the living room. Eric took the sofa. Sophie chose the desk chair, placing the violin case upright between her knees. Claire remained standing until Sophie glanced at her, then sat at the far end of the sofa.
May you like
Eric leaned forward. “I want to start by saying I am going to fix the tuition situation.”
Sophie looked at Claire.
