Chương 7
Leah took one look at Nora’s shoulder and said, “Bathroom. Photographs again. Then we talk.”
“Hello to you too.”
“I said hello by not driving to your apartment myself.”
Daniel placed the overnight bag near the stairs. “She ate half a bowl of soup.”
“Traitor,” Nora said.
“Professional witness.”
When he left, Leah locked the door behind him.
The younger associate glanced up from her screen. “The Sentinel is asking whether Ms. Blake will confirm that the Riverbend safety records were altered before the refinancing.”
“No comment,” Leah said.
“The business channel wants her live at nine.”
“No.”
“A podcast offered editorial control.”
“Especially no.”
Nora stood beside the table. “Has anything been published?”
“Not yet. The Sentinel is verifying. Helen Price’s counsel confirmed the board received records. That is all they will say.”
“What did Grant file?”
“A demand for return of company property and notice of intended claims. No court papers yet.”
“Employment status?”
“Suspended pending investigation.”
“Benefits?”
“Active for now.”
Leah watched her absorb that last detail.
Nora’s mother had remained at work through six rounds of chemotherapy because the Mercer health plan covered a specialist she trusted. Nora had been twenty-four and furious at everyone, including Diane, for behaving as if an insurance card were a form of mercy.
“Sit,” Leah said.
Nora remained standing.
Leah lowered her voice. “The board’s outside counsel wants an interview tomorrow.”
“Who did they retain?”
“Calder Finch.”
Nora gave a tired laugh. “Eleanor’s favorite enemies.”
“Which is probably why Helen chose them.”
“They represented the lender in the Westhaven dispute.”
“They also beat Mercer Meridian.”
“Eleanor will say they are conflicted.”
“She already has.”
Nora moved toward the kitchen, then stopped when her knee objected.
Leah saw it. “How bad?”
“Bruised.”
“You’re going to urgent care.”
“No.”
“You may have a fracture.”
“I walked out.”
“People walk on fractures.”
“Thank you, Daniel.”
“Who?”
“Nothing.”
Leah crossed her arms.
For years, Nora had admired Leah’s refusal to soften practical demands. Tonight it felt almost cruel. That was unfair, and knowing it was unfair did not change the feeling.
“I have to prepare for the interview,” Nora said.
“You have to create a medical record.”
“I already documented the garage assault.”
“With photographs you took yourself. Now Grant’s counsel will argue your injuries predated today, which they did, and that you are attributing them to him, which you are not. A clinician can distinguish what is new.”
“I don’t want another room where someone asks why I waited.”
“Then answer.”
“I don’t know the answer.”
“Yes, you do.”
Nora looked at the associates. Both were pretending not to listen.
Leah pointed toward the hallway. “Coat.”
At the urgent-care clinic, they waited beneath a television showing a cooking competition with the sound off. A toddler pushed a wooden bead along a wire maze while his father completed forms. An elderly woman slept with her purse held against her chest.
Nora filled in the box asking how the injuries occurred.
She wrote: Workplace-related physical incidents on separate dates.
Leah read it upside down.
“That is not language humans use.”
“It is accurate.”
“It is evasive.”
“I don’t know whether the penthouse is a workplace.”
“You know that isn’t what I meant.”
Nora capped the pen.
The toddler began crying because the red bead would not move past the blue one. His father solved it. The child immediately pushed it back into the same obstruction.
Nora watched him repeat the problem.
“My mother stayed,” she said.
Leah leaned back.
“At the company?”
“With Eleanor. Through everything.”
“You were a child.”
“I was old enough to see it.”
“To see what?”
“That she hated the hours. That she came home with headaches. That Eleanor called during dinner and she answered before the second ring.”
Leah waited.
Nora rubbed a smear of ink from her thumb.
“When she got sick, Eleanor paid for treatments the plan didn’t cover. She sent food. She sat beside the bed and talked about office gossip until my mother laughed. At the funeral, she knew which hymn to request.”
“People can be kind and harmful.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that as if knowing it prevents the harm.”
A nurse called Nora’s name.
The examination showed no fracture. Her knee was deeply bruised, her lip required no stitches, and the mark around her eye was consistent with impact against a hard surface. The clinician asked whether Nora felt safe returning home.
Nora said yes.
Leah said no.
The clinician looked between them and checked a box on the form.
At two in the morning, the Sentinel published its first story.
It did not accuse Grant of causing Javier Santos’s death. It reported that internal records appeared to contradict Mercer Meridian’s public account of the Riverbend fire and that the company’s deputy general counsel had provided documents to independent directors and regulators.
The story named Nora.
It included a photograph from a charity dinner two years earlier. In the picture, her hair was shorter, her smile wider, and Eleanor’s hand rested on the small of her back.
The caption described Nora as a longtime Mercer family confidante.
By 2:17, her personal email held seventy-three messages.
Some praised her. Some called her a thief. A former classmate asked whether she had representation and then, four minutes later, whether she would consider an exclusive television interview arranged through his media-consulting firm.
At 2:24, a message arrived from Javier Santos’s widow.
It contained six words.
Did you know when you signed it?
Nora read them until Leah took the phone from her.
“Not tonight.”
“She has a right to ask.”
“She does. You do not have to answer without preparation.”
“I signed the memo.”
“Yes.”
“Her husband was already dead.”
“Yes.”
“And I told the lenders there was no evidence of intentional noncompliance.”
“Based on what you were given.”
Nora looked at her.
Leah did not add the comforting sentence.
May you like
Nora appreciated her for that and resented her for it.
The board interview began at nine the next morning by secure video. Nora sat in Leah’s conference room wearing a borrowed white shirt because the blue blouse remained sealed in a paper evidence bag. Makeup reduced the bruise but could not hide it.
