Chương 10
“I hate lawyers.”
Rebecca smiled.
“You’re learning.”
Philip Harrow’s health prevented a meaningful interview at first.
His attorneys denied wrongdoing.
Celeste refused voluntary questioning about documents she had found in his office.
Then Adrian discovered something that made the museum attack make sense.
Six weeks before the gala, Celeste had photographed a file from her father’s home office.
The photograph had been backed up automatically to a cloud account Adrian and Celeste once shared for wedding planning documents.
She apparently forgot the account still synchronized an old tablet in Adrian’s apartment.
The image showed Lydia Reyes’s name.
Mara’s name.
And a copy of the old photograph with the locket.
Adrian showed Rebecca first.
Rebecca showed Mara.
Mara stared at the screen.
“So she knew my face?”
“Maybe,” Rebecca said. “This file contains a childhood photograph of you. Not a recent one.”
“She knew my name.”
“Yes.”
“And where I worked?”
“Not from this.”
Another photograph included a note Celeste had written by hand:
M.R. — museum?
Mara felt cold.
Adrian said, “The gala guest services roster was available to the event committee.”
Celeste had been on the committee.
There it was.
Not fate.
Not a random collision beneath a glass roof.
She had known.
Maybe not everything.
Enough.
The next question was why.
Celeste answered it herself.
Not publicly.
Not intentionally.
During settlement discussions, her attorney argued that Celeste had been under “extreme emotional strain” because she believed Mara’s appearance at the gala was a deliberate attempt to expose the Harrow family.
Rebecca repeated the sentence to Mara.
Mara stared at her.
“She thought I was there for her?”
“Yes.”
“I was assigned table twelve.”
“I know.”
“I almost called out sick because Nina gave me whatever plague she had.”
“Also known.”
“She thought I got a catering job as part of an inheritance conspiracy?”
“Fear does not improve everyone’s reasoning.”
Mara leaned back.
“So when I smiled—”
“She may have believed you recognized her.”
Mara thought about the moment.
Celeste arriving beneath the museum’s towering glass atrium.
Mara offering champagne.
Professional smile.
Good evening, ma’am.
Celeste staring too long.
Then saying, “What’s your name?”
Mara had pointed to the badge.
Celeste had gone still.
Five minutes later, she had summoned Mara again.
Asked whether her mother had ever worked in Manhattan.
Mara had thought it strange.
Then rude.
She had answered, “Sometimes.”
Celeste asked her mother’s name.
Mara refused.
Celeste called her insolent.
Mara turned away.
The tray came next.
The memory had seemed fragmented after the blow.
Now it aligned.
“She was scared of me.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“It shouldn’t.”
The settlement offer arrived one week later.
Celeste would issue a written apology.
Pay damages.
Cover medical expenses.
Agree to stay away from Mara.
In exchange, Mara would withdraw her civil claim and sign a strict confidentiality agreement covering the assault, the Harrow records, and any statements regarding Celeste’s knowledge of Mara’s identity before the gala.
Rebecca slid the document across the table.
“What do you think?”
“No.”
“You haven’t read it.”
“I heard confidentiality.”
“The number is significant.”
“How significant?”
Rebecca told her.
Mara stared.
“That’s disgusting.”
“It’s an offer.”
“I could pay off my student loans.”
“Yes.”
“Buy the apartment.”
“Possibly.”
“Never carry a tray again.”
“Possibly.”
Mara looked at Lydia’s letter, which she had started carrying in a protective folder.
You are not evidence.
The money was tempting.
She resented anyone who pretended it wasn’t.
Money could fix things.
Her mother had known that.
Rent.
Dental work.
Time.
Sleep.
A shoulder that could heal before a supervisor asked when she would resume full duty.
Mara picked up the settlement.
“If I sign this, nobody can say she knew.”
“Correct.”
“And nobody can say what her father did.”
“Depends on what becomes public through other proceedings, but you personally would be restricted.”
Mara stared at the number again.
Rebecca waited.
“What would you do?”
“I’m not you.”
“That’s lawyer nonsense.”
“It’s expensive lawyer nonsense.”
Mara smiled despite herself.
Rebecca leaned forward.
“Do not reject money because you think suffering makes you morally pure. It doesn’t. Do not take money because you think accepting it makes everything disappear. It doesn’t. Decide what you need to be able to live with.”
Mara took the document home.
She left it on the table for three days.
On the fourth, Adrian came over with takeout.
He did not ask about the offer.
That irritated her.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“Of course you know.”
“Celeste’s counsel notified mine because the agreement touches records related to my father.”
“What do you think?”
“It’s not my decision.”
Mara threw a napkin at him.
He caught it.
“You are unbelievably annoying.”
“I was trying not to influence you.”
“You influence things by entering rooms.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
He opened the food containers.
Mara stared at him.
“Would you take it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t need the money.”
The answer came instantly.
Mara sat back.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not pretending.”
Adrian handed her chopsticks.
“If I needed it, I might.”
They ate quietly.
Mara had ordered too much spicy beef.
Adrian kept drinking water.
“You can admit it’s hot.”
“It’s fine.”
“You’re sweating.”
“I’m not.”
“Your forehead disagrees.”
He pushed the container away.
“This is vindictive.”
“You control a multinational company.”
“I still have pain receptors.”
Mara laughed.
Then looked at the settlement again.
“My mother took money.”
“Yes.”
“She hated herself for it.”
“She shouldn’t have.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“No.”
Adrian looked at the documents.
“She should have taken more.”
Mara stared.
He continued.
“She was raising a child he helped create. Money was the minimum.”
The sentence settled inside her.
Not forgiveness.
Not absolution.
Just proportion.
Mara picked up the settlement offer.
Then tore it in half.
Adrian looked alarmed.
“You have a lawyer.”
“She has a copy.”
“Okay.”
“I wanted the experience.”
“You should maybe tell her before destroying legal documents recreationally.”
May you like
“I’ll add it to my hobbies.”
Two weeks later, Celeste requested a private meeting.
