Chương 9
Caroline did not laugh.
Eleanor added milk.
“Victor moved foundation assets improperly.”
“We do not yet know the legal characterization.”
“He hid them.”
“We know there were reporting failures.”
“He lied to auditors.”
“We have evidence he withheld information.”
“Caroline.”
“What?”
“This is why people hate us.”
Caroline stared at her.
“Who is us?”
“People who speak fluent euphemism.”
Caroline sat.
She opened the first folder.
“Fine. Without euphemism: if investigators conclude you approved restricted transfers with knowledge of their purpose, you could face civil liability. Possibly more depending on facts we do not have.”
“I did not know.”
“Can you prove that?”
Eleanor said nothing.
Caroline’s voice softened slightly.
“You signed.”
“I signed because Victor told me the transfers were internal liquidity adjustments.”
“And Celeste?”
Eleanor looked at the coffee.
“Celeste told me he was lying.”
Caroline closed the folder.
“That is a problem.”
“Yes.”
“Did she give you documents?”
“Some.”
“What did you do with them?”
“Gave them to our lawyers.”
“Which lawyers?”
“Bale’s firm.”
Caroline swore.
Eleanor looked up.
“I did not know you knew that word.”
“I went to public school.”
Despite herself, Eleanor laughed.
It lasted less than a second.
Caroline leaned forward.
“Did Bale bury the review?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you tell him to?”
“I told him I wanted the matter resolved internally.”
Caroline looked at her.
“That sentence will look excellent in a deposition.”
“I know.”
“Why did you do it?”
Eleanor considered several answers.
Protect the company.
Protect donors.
Avoid scandal.
Prevent lenders from panicking.
Preserve jobs.
All of them were true.
None complete.
“Because Victor was easier to believe.”
Caroline waited.
“Celeste was angry,” Eleanor said. “She had been angry with me for years. She came into rooms already prepared to fight. Victor came in with spreadsheets.”
“So you trusted him.”
“I preferred him.”
The distinction surprised even Eleanor.
Caroline leaned back.
“Do not say that casually to investigators.”
“I won’t say anything casually again.”
“That will be a first.”
Eleanor gave her a tired look.
Caroline gathered the folders.
At the door she stopped.
“For what it’s worth, the board may ask you to step down as chair.”
“I assumed so.”
“Does that frighten you?”
“Yes.”
Caroline seemed surprised.
Eleanor opened the door.
“Another first.”
Two weeks passed before Celeste agreed to see her.
Not at the hospital.
Not at Vance House.
Rachel had a two-bedroom apartment in Philadelphia with a radiator that clanged every twenty minutes and a kitchen drawer that refused to close unless lifted slightly.
Celeste and Mia were staying there temporarily while lawyers sorted out housing, records, and protection orders.
Eleanor arrived alone.
No driver waited at the curb.
She had asked him to leave.
Mia opened the apartment door.
She looked at Eleanor’s shoes first.
They were black flats.
“Those are better,” Mia said.
Eleanor looked down.
“Yes.”
“Mom said you would probably wear heels.”
“Your mother enjoys being correct.”
Mia stepped aside.
Rachel was in the kitchen arguing with the drawer.
“Lift it,” Celeste called from the living room.
“I am lifting it.”
“Not like you’re trying to punish it.”
“I’m not emotionally involved with your drawer.”
“It’s your drawer.”
“Oh. Right.”
Eleanor stood in the entrance.
The domestic stupidity of the exchange caught her unprepared.
Celeste sat on the sofa wearing jeans and a green sweater.
She looked healthier.
Not well.
Healthier.
Mia went to the floor where colored pencils were spread around a sheet of paper.
Rachel glanced at Eleanor.
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
“Normal person coffee or billionaire coffee?”
Eleanor blinked.
Rachel’s face went pale.
“I don’t know why I said that.”
Celeste laughed.
Mia looked up.
“What’s billionaire coffee?”
“Coffee someone else makes,” Eleanor said.
Rachel pointed at her.
“Good answer.”
She disappeared into the kitchen.
Celeste watched Eleanor sit.
For a while neither spoke.
Mia colored.
A delivery truck backed somewhere in the alley outside, making a repetitive beeping sound.
Celeste finally said, “I saw your statement.”
Eleanor nodded.
“You didn’t call me your granddaughter.”
“No.”
“That was smart.”
“Priya said the same.”
“Who’s Priya?”
“My communications director.”
“Of course you have one.”
“I am apparently not safe without supervision.”
Celeste’s mouth moved slightly.
Then the humor disappeared.
“Victor says I agreed to everything.”
“I know.”
“I agreed to some of it.”
“I know.”
“I need you not to turn me into a kidnapped princess because that makes you feel better.”
Eleanor looked at her.
Celeste continued.
“I called him. I took his money. I let him put me in treatment. I gave him control over things because I was afraid I’d use again. I signed medical releases. I signed a financial power for one account.”
“And later you withdrew consent.”
“Yes.”
“That matters.”
“It does. But so does the part before.”
“I understand.”
“No, you want to understand.”
Eleanor accepted that.
Rachel brought coffee in mismatched mugs.
Eleanor’s had a cartoon raccoon holding a slice of pizza.
She looked at it.
Rachel said, “That’s the good mug.”
“I’m honored.”
Mia crawled closer.
She had the pale-blue tin case beside her.
The dent remained.
Eleanor looked at it longer than she meant to.
Mia noticed.
“I’m keeping it like that.”
“I assumed.”
“Mom said you’d try to buy a new one.”
Celeste said, “I said she might.”
Eleanor looked at Mia.
“I did think about repairing it.”
“Why?”
“Because I damaged it.”
“It already had dents.”
“I added one.”
Mia considered this.
“You can say sorry to the case.”
Eleanor looked at Celeste.
Celeste lifted one shoulder.
“Her rules.”
Eleanor touched two fingers to the lid.
“I’m sorry.”
Mia nodded.
“Okay.”
Then she returned to coloring.
Eleanor looked down at the raccoon mug.
Something tightened behind her ribs.
Celeste saw.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Turn this into a moment.”
Eleanor almost protested.
Then laughed quietly.
“You really did grow up.”
“I’m forty-one.”
“I noticed.”
“No, you noticed I looked old.”
“You told me I looked old.”
“You looked very old.”
May you like
Mia said without looking up, “You both look old.”
Rachel nearly spilled coffee.
