Chương 12
“You want my company back in the competition.”
“I want the project chosen on its merits.”
“My father will use that.”
“Your father uses oxygen.”
Griffin almost laughed.
“What about the coalition?” he asked.
“They may remove me before the hearing.”
“Then why do it?”
“Because I spent eight years teaching my daughters that hiding can be a form of safety. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it becomes the room you lock yourself inside.”
He sat down.
“Are you telling them everything?”
“Not everything.”
“What will you tell them?”
“That I tried to reach you. That you didn’t know. That I made the choice not to try again.”
“You had reasons.”
“Yes.”
“You were threatened.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t need to take blame that belongs to me.”
“I’m not dividing blame for convenience. I’m deciding what is mine.”
Griffin looked at the cream ribbon, now tied around the base of his desk lamp.
“Tell me when the hearing is.”
“Do not come unless you are asked.”
“That sounds like no.”
“It sounds like a boundary.”
“I’m learning those.”
“Slowly.”
“Very.”
The coalition voted to keep Sloan as lead architect by a margin of six to four.
Two members resigned.
The city scheduled a public ethics hearing for the following Thursday.
In the days before it, the twins learned more than Sloan wanted them to know. A classmate showed Hazel an article calling Sloan a “secret former lover.” Iris found a video arguing that Sloan had hidden billionaire heirs to increase their future inheritance.
Hazel asked what an heir was.
Iris answered before Sloan could. “A person everyone waits to become rich when somebody dies.”
Hazel looked horrified. “I don’t want Griffin to die.”
“Neither do I,” Iris said. “But I’d like his company to stop ruining Mom’s project.”
Sloan turned off the tablet.
“We’re done reading strangers.”
“They’re reading about us,” Hazel said.
“That does not make them right.”
“Did you hide us?”
The question was quiet.
Sloan sat across from them at the kitchen table. A bowl of oranges remained between them, untouched.
“I kept your existence private from Griffin.”
“Because he was bad?” Iris asked.
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of him?”
“Of his family. His company. His money. Of being treated like I wanted something from him. And after a while, I was afraid that telling him would change our life in ways I couldn’t control.”
Hazel picked at the paper label on an orange. “Did you think he wouldn’t want us?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still think that?”
Sloan looked toward the window. Rain ran down the glass in thin, overlapping lines.
“No.”
Iris’s face remained guarded. “Were you going to tell us when we were older?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“I don’t know.”
“That means maybe never.”
Sloan did not deny it.
Hazel began to cry without sound. She wiped her face angrily.
“You said families don’t keep the important truth secret.”
“I did.”
“You kept the biggest one.”
“I know.”
“Because you’re allowed?”
“No.”
“Because you’re the mom?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
Sloan pressed her palms flat against the table. “Because I made a choice when I was frightened, and every year after that, changing the choice became harder. That is not the same as being allowed.”
Iris pushed back her chair.
“I want to call Griffin.”
Sloan handed her the phone.
Iris took it into the office and closed the door. Hazel stayed at the table, shredding the orange label into tiny pieces.
“What will happen now?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Adults don’t know much.”
“No,” Sloan said. “We mostly know how to hide it.”
Iris spoke to Griffin for thirty-seven minutes.
She did not tell Sloan what they discussed.
At the next mediated visit, Iris asked Griffin to take her alone to a science museum exhibit about insects. Sloan initially refused. Nina suggested a ninety-minute visit with Daniel nearby but not visible.
Iris came home carrying no gifts.
“What did you do?” Hazel asked.
“We looked at wasps.”
“Did he buy the museum?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Iris removed her shoes. “He said it wasn’t for sale.”
Hazel stared. “That means he checked.”
Griffin had not checked.
He had, however, asked the museum director whether the exhibit needed funding, then stopped himself before making an offer. The restraint felt absurdly difficult.
During the visit, Iris asked why he had ignored Sloan’s calls.
“Because I was angry,” he said.
“For six weeks?”
“Partly. Then I was embarrassed that I had waited so long.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Yes.”
“Did you think she would call forever?”
He watched a live wasp move behind glass. “I think I assumed the choice would remain available until I was ready.”
“Mom does that.”
He looked at her.
“With clothes,” Iris added. “She leaves them in her online cart, and then they’re sold out.”
“That sounds less serious.”
“It’s the same kind of stupid.”
He nodded. “Maybe.”
Iris pressed her nose close to the exhibit glass.
“I’m mad at her,” she said.
“You’re allowed.”
“She took you away.”
“She didn’t know me the way you know me now.”
“I barely know you.”
“Exactly.”
Iris turned. “Are you mad at her?”
“Yes.”
The answer surprised her.
“Are you going to take us?”
“No.”
“Your father wants you to.”
“My father wants many things.”
“You usually do what he wants.”
“Too often.”
“What if Mom keeps us from you?”
“I’ll keep asking to be part of your lives. We’ll use the mediator. If we need legal help, I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t become a war.”
“That sounds like maybe.”
“It is.”
Iris returned to the wasps.
After a while, she slipped her hand into his.
Griffin did not look down.
The city hearing filled the council chamber.
May you like
Sloan sat beside Mateo and the coalition’s attorney. Across the aisle, Drake Urban’s interim chief operating officer represented the company. Griffin’s board had instructed him not to attend. He watched the livestream from his apartment until Hazel called.
“Mom says you shouldn’t come,” she said.
