Chương 13
“No other confirmed children.”
Richard exhaled.
Claire hated that she noticed his relief.
Royce continued.
“Harrow was looking for anything that could create trust claims or reputational pressure.”
Ethan said, “Did you give them Claire’s identity?”
“Yes.”
Eleanor’s face changed.
Richard stepped toward Royce.
“You gave them her name?”
Royce did not retreat.
“I sold information I lawfully possessed.”
Ethan said, “We can debate lawfully later.”
Claire returned to the table.
“Did Harrow leak the photograph?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I was holding the rest for leverage.”
At least greed was consistent.
Ethan asked about the drive.
Royce wanted money.
Ethan refused.
Royce stood.
“Then we’re done.”
Claire looked at the hard drive.
“Does it include the raw DNA collection records?”
“Yes.”
“Photographs of me as a child?”
“Yes.”
“Reports about my mother?”
“Yes.”
“Medical information?”
Royce hesitated.
Claire felt cold.
“What medical information?”
“Publicly obtainable records. Nothing clinical.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Your mother’s leave history. Insurance litigation. Some pharmacy observations.”
Claire stared at him.
He had watched Marianne pick up prescriptions.
Recorded them.
Filed them.
Sold pieces of that history twenty-two years later.
Claire looked at Ethan.
“If we buy it, can we destroy it?”
“Not immediately if it becomes relevant evidence.”
Royce smiled slightly.
That smile made the decision for her.
Claire turned to the investigator Ethan had brought.
“Can we preserve this without paying him?”
The investigator said, “If counsel has grounds to seek an emergency preservation order, potentially.”
Royce’s smile disappeared.
Ethan looked at Claire.
“We may.”
“Then do that.”
Royce picked up the drive.
Claire said, “And send Harrow notice that if any material derived from surveillance of a minor is being used to influence a public-company transaction, we want every access log preserved.”
Richard stared at her.
Ethan nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
Royce looked less comfortable now.
Good.
Claire did not feel triumphant.
Only dirty.
They returned to the train after midnight.
Richard walked beside her across the snowy platform.
“You handled Royce well.”
“I don’t need a performance review.”
“I wasn’t giving one.”
They walked several steps.
Then Richard said, “I’m sorry.”
Claire stopped.
“For what?”
He looked toward the train.
“For burning the papers.”
“That was twenty years ago.”
“Yes.”
“You thought they were fake.”
“Yes.”
“Then why are you apologizing?”
Richard looked at her.
“Because I should have asked more questions.”
Claire studied his face.
The apology was imperfect.
No speech.
No tears.
No request for forgiveness.
She believed it.
That did not make it enough.
“Okay,” she said.
Richard frowned slightly.
“Okay?”
“That’s what you get tonight.”
He nodded.
They boarded.
The next morning, two things happened.
First, Harrow Meridian denied leaking information but suspended negotiations pending internal review of its diligence contractor.
Second, Eleanor asked Ethan to prepare an affidavit.
Claire found out because Ethan knocked on her compartment door at 8:10 carrying coffee.
“What affidavit?”
“A factual declaration regarding the birth record, the 2004 meeting with Marianne, and Richard’s destruction of the earlier file.”
Claire stared.
“Why?”
“Because Eleanor says she will testify voluntarily.”
Claire opened the door wider.
“Does Richard know?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“She asked to speak to you first.”
Claire nearly refused.
Then she remembered Jonathan’s last line.
The dead have had too much influence already.
“Fine.”
Eleanor was waiting in the observation car.
No guests.
Morning sunlight finally broke through cloud, turning the snowfields bright enough to hurt.
The storm was gone.
The case sat on the marble table.
Claire disliked seeing it there.
It had become the center of every room.
Eleanor stood beside the orchids.
“I am going to give Ethan a statement.”
“I heard.”
“I will say what I did.”
“Why?”
Eleanor looked at her.
“Because Richard intends to challenge your claim by arguing Jonathan fabricated the paternity evidence.”
Claire felt anger rise.
“He told you that?”
“He asked his counsel about it this morning.”
Of course he had.
The apology on the platform did not erase strategy.
Human beings remained inconveniently multiple.
“What do you want from me?” Claire asked.
“Nothing.”
“That is never true.”
Eleanor almost smiled.
“No. Probably not.”
She sat.
“I want you not to mistake my statement for courage.”
Claire waited.
“I am doing it because Royce’s records may come out. Because Harrow may already know. Because I can no longer control the information.”
There it was.
Not redemption.
Pressure.
Self-protection.
Claire respected the honesty more than she wanted to.
Eleanor continued.
“And because I am tired.”
Claire looked out the window.
“That part I believe.”
“I should have told Richard years ago.”
“You should have told me.”
“Yes.”
“You keep apologizing in grammar.”
Eleanor frowned.
“What?”
“Should have. Could have. Regretted. Everything happens in a tense where nobody has to do anything.”
Eleanor absorbed that.
Then said, “I changed your legal history because I believed preserving my marriage and Richard’s inheritance mattered more than your right to know who your father was.”
Claire went still.
Eleanor’s voice remained steady.
“I frightened your mother into signing a false declaration. Years later, when she tried to repair it, I intercepted her evidence. I lied to my son and used him to destroy it. I watched you enter the foundation as an adult and said nothing because each year made confession more humiliating.”
Claire’s eyes burned.
Eleanor continued.
“I am not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“I am asking whether you want me to correct the record publicly.”
Claire looked at her.
That was different.
Not confession.
Choice.
“My mother is dead.”
“Yes.”
“She cannot decide how much of her life becomes public.”
“No.”
“Neither can Jonathan.”
“No.”
Claire looked at the case.
“What would a public statement do legally?”
Ethan, waiting near the door, answered.
“It could strengthen Claire’s position and weaken arguments about fabrication. It would also draw more press attention.”
Eleanor said, “I can make the statement without naming details that are not necessary.”
Claire sat.
May you like
She thought of Marianne complaining about photographs from below.
Of eight-dollar wine.
