“At least sixty-two million.”
Nina swore under her breath.
I looked at Rebecca.
“Cancel the board meeting.”
“I already postponed it.”
“No. Cancel it publicly. Tell them I suffered a stress-related episode and cannot participate.”
Rebecca understood immediately.
“You want them comfortable.”
“I want them careless.”
At 11:02, Bennett Global issued a statement expressing concern for my health and announcing the postponement of the board meeting.
At 11:09, Adrian texted me.
I heard what happened. Please tell me where you are.
At 11:11:
Whatever you think I did, I can explain.
At 11:14:
Vanessa has been manipulating both of us.
Then, at 11:20:
Your mother warned me this might happen.
That was the first message that made me respond.
What did my mother warn you about?
He called.
This time, I answered.
“Claire.”
Relief filled his voice so perfectly that I almost admired him.
“Where are you?”
“What did my mother say?”
“She was worried about you.”
“When?”
“Before she died.”
“What exactly did she say?”
He hesitated.
“She said you sometimes fixate on patterns when you’re under extreme pressure.”
A clean lie.
Delivered gently.
Designed to sound protective.
“You mean she thought I was unstable?”
“No. Of course not. But grief affects people differently. Canceling our wedding, disappearing, refusing to speak to anyone—this isn’t you.”
“You don’t know what is me.”
“I know you better than anyone.”
“Then tell me where I am.”
Silence.
I imagined him standing in our kitchen with reporters outside and his mother hovering nearby.
“Claire, come home.”
“Did you love Vanessa?”
“It’s complicated.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“I cared about her a long time ago.”
“You kissed her every September.”
“She threatened you.”
“With what?”
“Information.”
“What information?”
Another hesitation.
This one lasted too long.
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