Part 5
“I think he knew where you would be, what you would wear, and what you would carry.”
“He chose the necklace.”
“No. I did.”
Mara stared at her.
Celeste continued in a quieter voice. “Which means someone told him about the credential.”
Naomi said, “Who knew?”
“Three people,” Celeste replied. “Myself, Patrick, and Mara.”
“You’re accusing her?”
“I am counting.”
Mara’s fingers curled around the gemstone.
Adrian had touched it in the elevator. He had not seemed surprised by the hidden credential. At the time, she assumed he recognized the necklace as valuable. Now she remembered the precision of his glance toward Dwyer.
Search her.
Not for the case. For the key.
“Patrick told him,” Mara said.
“Possibly.”
“Then why did Patrick take the case away from Adrian?”
Celeste’s gaze settled on the blood smear near the elevator. “Perhaps he changed his mind.”
“People don’t change sides because someone throws a glass.”
“No,” Celeste said. “They change sides because the glass confirms what they were already afraid of.”
Naomi stood. “I need your contractor’s name, the drone’s flight record, and every channel used to communicate with Dwyer.”
Celeste smiled faintly. “Then I suggest you obtain a warrant.”
Naomi looked at Mara. “We’re done here.”
As they crossed the penthouse, Celeste spoke again.
“Mara.”
She turned.
The older woman had removed the blanket. Her burgundy blazer looked untouched by the night.
“Do not let Adrian convince you that one betrayal excuses another.”
Mara waited for more.
Celeste offered none.
At the hospital, a resident cleaned Mara’s cuts, ordered imaging of her ribs, and asked three times whether she felt safe returning home.
She did not know how to answer.
The apartment she shared with Adrian occupied two floors of another building twelve blocks away. Her clothes, passport, medication, financial records, and mother’s letters were there. Adrian owned the apartment through a holding company. The building staff reported to a management firm controlled by Voss Meridian.
“No,” she finally said. “I don’t feel safe.”
The resident nodded as though this were useful information.
Naomi arranged a hotel room under another name. Two agents waited outside the examination area. One of them brought Mara a paper cup of coffee that tasted burned and strangely comforting.
At three in the morning, Naomi sat beside her bed and placed a clear evidence bag on the blanket.
Inside was Mara’s phone.
“We imaged it,” Naomi said. “You have a missed call from Adrian’s attorney and twelve messages from board members.”
“Already?”
“The first news alert went out forty minutes ago.”
Mara opened a news site.
The headline described a “disturbance” at a Voss Foundation gala. Adrian had been taken into custody for questioning after an alleged dispute involving company property. No charges had been announced. A photograph from earlier that evening showed him beside Mara on the ballroom stage, one hand at the small of her back.
She looked happy in the picture.
That disturbed her more than the headline.
“What are they saying about me?” she asked.
Naomi hesitated.
“Show me.”
A financial reporter had posted that sources close to Voss Meridian believed the incident arose from a conflict over Mara’s inherited shares. Another account claimed she had suffered an emotional episode during the gala. A former board adviser wrote that Adrian had spent years protecting her privacy and deserved the presumption of innocence.
Mara read the sentence twice.
“Protecting my privacy.”
“They’re establishing a narrative,” Naomi said.
“He’s still detained.”
“His communications team isn’t.”
Mara opened the messages.
One board member asked whether she needed medical support. Another said the company stood ready to protect her from outside influence. The chairman of the audit committee urged her not to speak publicly until the facts were clear.
Her closest friend, Tessa Ward, had sent only four words.
I’m downstairs. Don’t argue.
Mara showed Naomi.
“She can come up after we clear her,” Naomi said.
“You’re going to interview my friend?”
“I’m going to make sure she’s your friend.”
Tessa arrived wearing jeans, a cashmere sweater, and two different shoes.
She noticed Mara looking.
“I got dressed in the dark.”
“One is black.”
“They’re both emotionally black.”
Mara laughed and immediately held her ribs.
Tessa’s humor vanished. She sat on the edge of the bed without touching her.
“Can I hug you?”
“Not unless you want me to throw up.”
“Good boundary.”
For a while, neither spoke. Machines beeped in nearby rooms. A cart rattled down the hall. Tessa folded the corner of a parking receipt over and over until it became a tight white triangle.
“I saw the picture,” she said.
“Which one?”
“The stage.”
“I look happy.”
“You look trained.”
Mara turned toward the window. Dawn had not yet begun. The glass reflected the hospital room, making it seem as though another injured woman lay beyond it.
“Did you know?” she asked.
“About Adrian?”
“Any of it.”
Tessa rubbed the folded receipt between her fingers. “I knew he corrected you too often.”
“That isn’t a crime.”
“No.”
“He moved money through fake contractors.”
“That sounds more crime-shaped.”
“My father may have started it.”
Tessa stopped folding the receipt.
Mara told her about the signatures, the case, Celeste’s plan, the beam, and Dwyer’s disappearance. She left out nothing except the depth of her humiliation. That part entered the story anyway.
When she finished, Tessa said, “You need a lawyer who doesn’t work for your family.”
“Naomi said the same thing.”
“Good. Government and I finally agree on something.”
“I have lawyers.”
“You have Adrian’s lawyers, Celeste’s lawyers, and lawyers whose children go to school with both of them.”
Tessa stood and paced to the window.
“Remember Daniel Cho?”
“The legal aid attorney you dated?”
“I did not date him.”
“You flew to Montreal with him.”
“The conference was in Montreal.”
“You shared a hotel room.”
“The city was expensive.”
Mara waited.
Tessa sighed. “Fine. I dated him badly. He does corporate whistleblower work now.”
May you like
“At legal aid?”
“He left. Apparently poor people weren’t exhausting enough.”
