This time she answered.
“What?”
“Claire.”
His voice sounded exhausted.
“Are you safe?”
“You don’t get to ask that right now.”
“Please.”
“We’re safe.”
“Is Eleanor with you?”
“Yes.”
“Listen to me. My mother has people watching the house.”
Claire looked toward the window.
The curtains were closed.
“How do you know?”
“Because I just found the payment authorization.”
Her heart quickened.
“Whose authorization?”
“Mine.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Of course.”
“No. Claire, I didn’t authorize it.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I expect you to believe my mother has access to executive systems she shouldn’t have.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“I know.”
Claire hated how defeated he sounded.
“What do you want?”
“To come over.”
“No.”
“We need to talk.”
“You needed to talk nine years ago.”
“I was twenty-six.”
“So was I.”
“I was afraid.”
“So was I, when I lost our baby. Did I lie to you?”
Silence.
Claire regretted the comparison instantly because the memory still hurt them both.
Nathan’s voice softened.
“No.”
“Then stop using fear as an excuse.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
Nathan breathed.
“When my mother told me about the Bennett trust, she said your father had extorted my grandfather.”
Claire looked toward Eleanor, asleep on the couch.
“She told me Thomas threatened to destroy Harrington Industries unless Richard gave him shares.”
“And you believed her.”
“I grew up believing her.”
“So you transferred schools.”
“Yes.”
“To meet me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To figure out whether you knew anything.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
Nathan continued quickly.
“I planned to introduce myself. Become friendly. Learn whether your family intended to make another claim.”
She felt physically ill.
“And then?”
“And then you spilled coffee on me in the library.”
Claire remembered.
Nathan had been wearing a gray sweatshirt.
She had been carrying too many books.
They had laughed for twenty minutes.
“I stopped thinking about the trust,” he whispered.
“You expect that to make this romantic?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“I fell in love with you.”
“And never told me why you were there.”
“I was ashamed.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“There’s more.”
Nathan did not answer.
“There is always more.”
Finally he said, “Five years ago, my mother told me she had resolved the trust issue permanently.”
“How?”
“She showed me documents signed by Eleanor.”
Claire looked at her mother.
“What documents?”
“A release of claims.”
“My mother says she never signed anything.”
“I know that now.”
“What did you do?”
“I filed them.”
Claire stopped breathing.
Nathan continued.
“I was general counsel then. I submitted them to our corporate records office.”
“You authenticated forged documents.”
“I believed they were real.”
“But you didn’t ask my mother.”
“No.”
“You didn’t ask me.”
“No.”
“Because?”
Nathan’s voice cracked.
“Because part of me didn’t want to know.”
There it was.
Not innocence.
Cowardice.
Claire whispered, “What else?”
“I later discovered irregularities.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
Claire laughed once.
It sounded broken.
“So for two years you suspected my mother’s signature had been forged.”
“Yes.”
“And you said nothing.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“My mother said exposing it would collapse financing agreements. Thousands of employees could lose their jobs.”
“And you believed that too?”
“I wanted to.”
Claire wiped her eyes.
“You didn’t protect employees. You protected yourself.”
Nathan said nothing.
“You protected Harrington.”
“Yes.”
“You protected your mother.”
“Yes.”
“At our expense.”
“Yes.”
His honesty now felt almost cruel.
Claire looked at Nathan’s name on the screen.
The man she loved was finally telling the truth only because lies had stopped working.
“Why is Vivian afraid of the ledger?”
Nathan hesitated.
“Because company records show transactions. A private ledger may show intent.”
“Intent to do what?”
“Defraud your father’s trust.”
Claire’s chest tightened.
“How much is thirty-eight percent of Harrington Holdings worth?”
“Today?”
“Yes.”
Nathan breathed.
“Depending on valuation…”
“Say it.”
“Between six hundred and eight hundred million.”
Claire sat down.
The kitchen seemed suddenly too small.
Her mother had lived modestly while Vivian controlled a fortune partly belonging to Claire.
But the number itself mattered less than something else.
Vivian had known.
Nathan en savait assez.
Et Claire avait été maintenue dans l’ignorance.
Nathan a déclaré : « Il y a une autre raison pour laquelle elle veut l’enregistrement. »
“Quoi?”
« Au dîner, elle a parlé de signatures. »
“Oui.”
« Si elle a admis avoir besoin de la signature d’Eleanor, alors elle a implicitement admis que la première autorisation de sortie pouvait ne pas être valable. »
Claire comprit.
L’enregistrement a anéanti toute la défense de Vivian.
« Elle a cassé le téléphone parce qu’elle pensait pouvoir effacer ça. »
“Oui.”
«Elle ne peut pas.»
“Non.”
Claire fixa la fenêtre sombre.
« As-tu ordonné à quelqu’un de fouiller la maison de maman ? »
“Non.”
« Vivian le ferait-elle ? »
“Oui.”
«Allait-elle lui faire du mal ?»
Nathan a mis trop de temps à répondre.
Claire serra plus fort.
« Nathan. »
« Je ne sais plus de quoi ma mère est capable. »
Un bruit provenait de l’extérieur.
Gravier.
Claire se leva.
Les phares balayèrent les rideaux.
« Nathan. »
“Quoi?”
« Il y a une voiture dehors. »
« N’ouvrez pas la porte. »
Claire a réveillé Eleanor.
Les phares ont disparu.
Une porte s’est fermée quelque part derrière la pelouse.
Nathan a dit d’un ton urgent : « Appelez le 911. »
« Vous m’avez dit que le chef de la police… »
« Appelle quand même. J’arrive. »
“Non.”
« Claire… »
« Ne venez pas ici. »
Puis quelque chose a heurté la porte de derrière.
Une fois.
Dur.
Eleanor se tenait derrière Claire, serrant contre elle la clé en laiton des archives.
Un autre impact secoua le châssis.
Claire murmura dans le téléphone.
« Quelqu’un essaie d’entrer. »
La voix de Nathan changea.
« Montez à l’étage. Enfermez-vous à clé. Maintenant. »
Le troisième impact a fendu le bois autour du pêne dormant.
