“We can, and we have.”
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“We have an independent audit, bank records, and documentation that raises serious questions about the transactions. Those questions will be referred to the appropriate authorities.”
Celeste turned toward Daniel.
“Say something.”
He stood slowly.
“I want the truth.”
“I am telling you the truth.”
“Then stay and answer the questions.”
She looked at him as if he had slapped her.
“You would choose your mother over me?”
Daniel’s expression changed.
For a moment, Eleanor saw the boy he had once been, standing in the kitchen with scraped knees, terrified that one wrong decision would make someone stop loving him.
But the man who stood before Celeste now was finally beginning to understand that love could not be measured by how much wrongdoing someone was willing to ignore.
“This isn’t about choosing my mother,” he said. “It’s about choosing whether I can live with myself.”
Celeste snatched up her portfolio.
“You’ll regret this.”
“Perhaps,” Daniel said. “But I won’t sign another document until I understand exactly what it means.”
She looked around the room, searching for someone who might rescue her from the consequences of her own actions.
No one moved.
She left without another word.
The door closed behind her.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Daniel sank into his chair and covered his face with both hands. His shoulders moved once, then again. He was crying, though he tried to hide it.
Eleanor wanted to reach for him.
She also remembered the sound of her fork striking the plate, the way he had stared at his food while Celeste told his mother that she did not belong in his life.
She remained where she was.
When Daniel finally looked up, his eyes were red.
“Mom, I’m sorry.”
Eleanor held his gaze.
