Chương 5
“Did you tell her not to tell you things?”
“No.”
Daniel kept looking.
Marcus drank his coffee.
It was terrible.
“I may have made not knowing too easy.”
Daniel leaned against the wall.
“Jesus.”
“Yes.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Independent counsel. Audit committee. Preserve everything.”
“Police?”
“Claire decides what she wants to do about the stairs.”
“She already called the police.”
Marcus looked surprised.
Daniel almost smiled.
“You really don’t know her sometimes.”
“No,” Marcus said. “I suppose I don’t.”
Claire woke when Marcus moved the chair.
She opened her eyes and found him sitting beside the window, staring at the city.
His tuxedo jacket was gone. His white shirt was wrinkled. A bandage covered the side of his hand.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Not anymore.”
“What happened?”
“Glass.”
She touched her belly.
The baby moved almost immediately.
Marcus noticed.
His shoulders lowered.
“I spoke to Evelyn.”
Claire waited.
“She says she moved the reserve funds.”
“Seventeen?”
“Yes.”
“Anything else?”
“She says it was to cover project liquidity.”
Claire watched his face.
“You believe her.”
“I believe that part.”
“Did you know?”
Marcus looked at the floor.
Claire felt colder than she had during the police interview.
“Marcus.”
“I knew Northgate had a financing delay.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I know.”
It was the same answer Daniel had gotten.
Marcus rubbed his thumb along the edge of the bandage.
“I didn’t know about the reserve.”
“Would you have wanted to?”
He looked at her.
“That is an unpleasantly good question.”
“Answer it.”
He took a long time.
“I would like to say yes.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
Claire pushed herself higher in bed and winced.
Marcus stood automatically.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
She adjusted the pillow herself.
“Evelyn told you something.”
“She thinks I trained her not to bring me ugly details.”
“Did you?”
“I trained everyone around me to bring solutions.”
“That sounds nicer.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
He looked toward the monitor.
“I don’t know.”
Claire almost laughed.
“You’re the CEO.”
“That has not made me more knowledgeable this morning.”
For the first time since the fall, she saw something in him that was not command, anger, or fear.
Shame.
It made her more cautious, not less.
“Who turned off the cameras?”
“Evelyn approved it.”
Claire stared.
Marcus raised a hand.
“Before you decide what that means, the request originated with the event planner. We host public figures. It could be normal.”
“Could be.”
“Yes.”
“Did she normally approve security changes?”
“No.”
Claire looked out the window.
The sky had turned pale gray.
“Preserve the email.”
“Already done.”
“Not your team.”
“I called Joanne Crane.”
That surprised her.
“She’s bringing outside counsel in this morning.”
“Outside whom you pick?”
“No.”
“Outside whom Evelyn picks?”
“No.”
Claire looked at him again.
Marcus’s mouth almost moved.
Under different circumstances, it might have been a smile.
“You have made your opinion of my governance style clear.”
“I’m not trying to be funny.”
“I know.”
A nurse came in with a breakfast tray containing scrambled eggs, oatmeal, and a banana so green it seemed punitive.
Claire looked at it.
“Is this because I complained?”
The nurse shrugged.
“We save the ripe bananas for people who cooperate.”
Marcus actually laughed.
The nurse pointed at him.
“You can leave if you’re going to encourage her.”
When she was gone, Claire broke a piece of toast.
Marcus said, “I’m sorry.”
She stopped.
“For what?”
He seemed to dislike the options.
“For building a company where Evelyn thought she had to do this.”
“That’s very broad.”
“I know.”
“And convenient.”
His expression tightened.
“I know.”
Claire set the toast down.
“You don’t get to apologize for the atmosphere if the details are worse.”
Marcus nodded.
It was the first thing anyone had said that morning that satisfied her.
She was discharged just after noon.
The doctor told her to rest, monitor pain and movement, return immediately for bleeding, worsening contractions, dizziness, or anything that felt wrong.
Claire asked what counted as resting.
The doctor looked at Daniel.
“Your wife strikes me as someone who needs unusually specific instructions.”
Daniel nodded.
Claire glared at both of them.
The doctor said, “No work today.”
“Today?”
“Let’s start with a goal you can achieve.”
At home, their apartment felt insulting in its normality.
The basil plant on the kitchen windowsill needed water.
A bowl contained three clementines and a receipt from a pharmacy.
Daniel’s sweatshirt was draped over a dining chair despite an argument they had been having about that habit since February.
Claire stood inside the door and stared at it.
Daniel followed her gaze.
“Not now.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“I almost died and you still know when I’m judging a sweatshirt.”
“That’s what marriage is.”
She sat carefully on the couch.
Daniel brought her water, then another pillow, then a blanket she did not ask for.
“Stop managing me.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re hovering.”
“I watched you fall down a staircase twelve hours ago.”
“That doesn’t make the blanket necessary.”
He picked it back up.
“Fine.”
Claire immediately felt cold.
“Leave it.”
Daniel looked at her.
“Don’t.”
He put the blanket over her legs.
She hated that he smiled.
By midafternoon, the first article appeared online.
No names at first.
PREGNANT WOMAN INJURED AT HALE FOUNDATION GALA.
Someone had spoken to a local gossip account before the ambulance reached the hospital.
Within an hour, her name was there.
By dinner, so was Evelyn’s.
The wording varied.
Witnesses described an argument.
A guest said the fall appeared accidental.
Another said a woman in red had been “involved.”
The company issued a statement confirming a medical incident and declining further comment.
Claire read it twice.
“Who approved this?”
Daniel looked up from the kitchen.
“What?”
“The statement.”
“I don’t know.”
“It says medical incident.”
“That’s what it was.”
“It makes it sound like I fainted.”
Daniel put down the knife he was using to cut an apple.
“Claire.”
“What?”
May you like
“Don’t read comments.”
“I’m not reading comments.”
