Chương 6
Several identified Eleanor and linked to the Voss Family Foundation.
Someone posted Adrian’s company website.
Someone else posted his home address before the platform removed it.
At four fifteen, a sedan slowed in front of the house. The driver held up a phone.
Adrian closed the curtains.
Mila was building a hospital for stuffed animals from couch cushions. She did not ask why the room became dark.
At five, Nathan called.
Adrian almost ignored him, then answered because Nathan had not been at the video setup when it happened.
“I’m not calling for Eleanor,” Nathan said.
“Everyone says that before calling for Eleanor.”
“I’m calling for Camille.”
“That’s not better.”
“No. Probably not.”
Nathan spoke with the measured uncertainty of a man who had spent months learning that marrying into a powerful family required different kinds of silence. He was an architect, quiet, competent, and too willing to believe private discomfort could remain private.
“She told me everything,” he said.
“I doubt that.”
“She told me she stood in the doorway.”
Adrian said nothing.
“She’s not defending it.”
“She came here.”
“I know.”
“She apologized to Mila and waited for a six-year-old to make her feel better.”
Nathan exhaled.
“That sounds like Camille.”
“It shouldn’t.”
“No.”
In the background, a cabinet closed. Nathan was not at the mansion. His apartment, probably.
“Eleanor wants to release a statement,” he said.
“What kind?”
“That the family experienced a private misunderstanding after Mila became overstimulated.”
“No.”
“I told Camille it was a bad idea.”
“It’s a lie.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Because Camille is afraid that if she contradicts Eleanor publicly, the foundation board will remove her from the wedding grant project.”
Adrian leaned against the wall.
“Wedding grant project?”
“Camille has been trying to fund legal assistance for young adults leaving foster care. Housing, marriage licenses, name changes, things people don’t think about.”
“And Eleanor controls the money.”
“Yes.”
“Camille blocked a terrified child because she was afraid of losing a project.”
“I’m not asking you to forgive her.”
“Good.”
“I’m telling you the leverage is real.”
“Leverage is always real. That’s why it works.”
Nathan was quiet.
Mila carried the rabbit past Adrian and placed it on the highest couch cushion.
“I need to ask something,” Nathan said.
“No.”
“You don’t know what it is.”
“It involves me helping Camille.”
“It involves the house video. The full recording.”
Adrian straightened.
“What about it?”
“Eleanor’s attorney told the security company to preserve it.”
“That sounds responsible.”
“He also told them no copies could be released without authorization.”
“That sounds like Eleanor.”
“Camille has access through the event account. She could download it now.”
“No.”
“Adrian—”
“No one downloads video of Mila without her consent.”
“She’s six.”
“Exactly.”
“The recording could prove what happened.”
“To whom?”
“The public. A court, if this turns into something.”
“You want to fix an invasion of her privacy by distributing better evidence of it.”
“I didn’t say distribute.”
“You said download.”
“To preserve.”
“Have the company preserve it. Do not send it to me. Do not send it to Camille. Do not let anyone put my daughter on the internet again.”
Nathan did not argue.
After the call, Adrian noticed Mila standing in the doorway.
“Are people watching me?” she asked.
He felt the room contract.
“No one can see you here.”
“At Nana’s?”
“Some people recorded when we left.”
“Did they see Bunny?”
“Yes.”
“His dirty ear?”
“Probably not.”
She considered that, then climbed onto the couch.
“What did they say?”
“Things they don’t understand.”
“About me?”
“Mostly about me.”
“Because you pointed?”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t point.”
“You’re right.”
She adjusted the rabbit against a cushion.
“Mrs. Wynn says pointing is rude.”
“Mrs. Wynn is usually right.”
“She says no running in the hallway, but she runs when the copier makes the fire smell.”
Adrian sat beside her.
“That seems sensible.”
Mila leaned against his arm.
“Are you in trouble?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Because of me?”
“No.”
“You came because I called.”
“Yes.”
“So because of me.”
He turned toward her. “Coming for you was not trouble.”
She watched his face carefully.
“What happens now?”
It was the question everyone had begun asking, though Mila asked it without strategy.
“We stay home tonight,” he said. “Tomorrow you go to school if you feel okay. I go to work. We talk to Dr. Shah. We don’t answer people who don’t need answers.”
“And Nana?”
“We take a break.”
“How long?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Mila seemed relieved by the honesty.
“Can Bunny take a break too?”
“Bunny can take a very long break.”
She nodded solemnly.
At seven, Mara arrived with the watch.
She drove her own ten-year-old sedan rather than a Voss vehicle. Adrian recognized it from previous holidays, usually parked near the service entrance. Mara stepped onto the porch carrying a small paper bag.
She looked tired. Her narrow white collar was visible beneath a charcoal coat, suggesting she had come directly from work or had not changed from the previous evening.
“I brought the watch,” she said.
Adrian opened the door wider but did not assume she would enter.
Mara looked past him toward Mila, who sat at the kitchen table drawing.
“May I?”
Adrian glanced at Mila.
Mila gave a small shrug.
Mara stepped inside and placed the bag on the counter. The watch was wrapped in a folded linen napkin. Beside it lay a single pink sugar flower from the cake, slightly crushed.
“That is not ours,” Adrian said.
“Mila asked for the flower before everything began.”
Mila looked up.
Mara slid the flower toward her. “I put it aside.”
Mila touched one petal.
“Can I eat it?”
“It’s mostly sugar.”
“That means yes,” Adrian said.
Mara almost smiled.
Mila took the flower and carried it to the living room.
May you like
Adrian examined the watch. The call log showed three attempted calls to him, one completed call lasting seven seconds, and a call to Mara lasting nineteen seconds.
“What did she say to you?” he asked.
