“Sprawiedliwy.”
Tata sięgnął po telefon.
Ten minutes later, Sterling’s general counsel joined the call.
By lunch, we knew.
Selina had submitted the request.
All correspondence concerning Rowan’s guarantee was supposed to go through her business office because the guarantor’s spouse was experiencing “pregnancy-related anxiety.”
I read that sentence three times.
Then I shut the laptop.
Dad waited.
Eventually I said, “She used my pregnancy as a reason to keep financial information away from me.”
“Yes.”
“I want to be angry.”
“You are.”
“I mean properly angry.”
He tilted his head.
“Throwing cushions?”
“Possibly.”
“We can buy more.”
I laughed.
Then, unexpectedly, I cried.
I was tired of discovering how many people had made decisions around me because they thought hiding the truth was kinder.
Rowan concealed the guarantee to protect me.
Selina redirected correspondence to protect me.
I concealed my father because I wanted to protect the life Rowan and I had built.
We had all protected each other so aggressively that trust quietly disappeared.
Dad moved beside me and put an arm around my shoulders.
“Your mother used to say secrets charge interest.”
I wiped my eyes.
“She actually said that?”
“No.”
I stared.
“She should have.”
I laughed again.
“Dad.”
“She did say that silence tends to become more expensive with time.”
“That sounds like Mom.”
“Yes.”
By afternoon, I knew what I needed.
I asked Rowan to invite Selina over.
He looked nervous.
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
“Should I tell her why?”
“No.”
“That will make her more nervous.”
“I know.”
At four o’clock, Selina arrived with a pale blue gift bag for Leo.
She had always been elegant rather than glamorous—precise clothes, carefully arranged silver-blond hair, everything coordinated.
Today she simply looked tired.
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