Chapter 10
The ballroom doors closed behind us, dulling the reporters into a restless murmur.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. The hallway smelled like rain carried in on coats and the faint lemon polish used on the marble floor. My hands were cold. I tucked them into the sleeves of my rust-colored coat, though the torn elbow only let the draft reach me faster.
Gabriel walked beside me without touching me.
At the end of the hall, he stopped near a tall window overlooking the parking lot. Cars slid through the rain below, their headlights breaking apart across the glass.
“You should sit,” he said.
“I can stand.”
“I believe you.”
That answer made me look at him.
His expression was controlled, but the control had changed. It no longer looked like authority. It looked like effort.
A woman in a dark blazer approached from the far end of the hall. She carried a slim leather folder and wore a visitor badge clipped upside down.
“Mr. Cross,” she said. “I’m Elise Warren. Outside counsel for the independent review group.”
Gabriel glanced at the badge, then at her face. “You found us quickly.”
“I was already in the building.” She looked at me. “Ms. Monroe, I need to ask whether you’re willing to speak with a legal investigator tonight.”
The question settled between us.
“About Martin?” I asked.
“About the records, the public statements, and any contact you had with the foundation’s internal systems.”
“I didn’t access the systems.”
“I’m not asking you to defend yourself in a hallway.”
Gabriel’s jaw tightened. “Where would the interview take place?”
“An office across the street. Two investigators, a recorder, and your own counsel if you want one.”
I looked through the glass at the wet pavement. Leaving would mean stepping out of Martin’s room, out of the reach of his cameras and his voice. It wouldn’t erase what he’d said. It might give him time to define it without me.
“I’ll speak,” I said. “But I want Dana there for the records portion.”
Elise nodded. “That’s reasonable.”
Gabriel didn’t answer immediately.
Outside, thunder rolled somewhere beyond the buildings.
“You don’t have to do this tonight,” he said.
“I know.”
“Then don’t decide because everyone expects an answer.”
“I’m deciding because if I wait, Martin gets to call the first version the truth.”
His eyes held mine. “I can’t promise this will protect you.”
The words hurt more than a promise would have.
“Good,” I said quietly. “Don’t promise something you can’t control.”
We crossed the street beneath a black umbrella Elise had brought for me. Gabriel walked on my other side, close enough to block the wind but not close enough to crowd me. At the curb, a sedan slowed beside us. I caught only the pale shape of a face behind the rain-streaked window before it moved on.
The investigators’ office occupied the second floor above a tax service and a closed print shop. Its waiting room had two metal chairs, a water cooler, and a clock that clicked too loudly.
Dana arrived ten minutes later, carrying the original badge log in a plastic sleeve. She looked exhausted, but she kept her shoulders square.
The interview took nearly two hours.
I described the route I had taken, the silver drive, the warning messages, and the person who had confronted me before I reached Gabriel’s office. I did not describe every detail of the attack. When the investigator asked why, I said, “Because I’m not ready to put that part into a recording yet.”
Elise started to object, but Gabriel spoke first.
“She answered,” he said. “Move on.”
The investigator did.
Near midnight, Elise placed a form in front of me. It authorized the review group to preserve the copies Gabriel had made and request records from the foundation’s payment administrator.
I read every line.
“What happens if they refuse?” I asked.
“Then we seek a formal order,” Elise said.
“And if Martin says the records were stolen?”
“Then the chain of custody matters.”
I signed.
Gabriel signed after me, then slid the pen back to the center of the table.
No one celebrated. No one shook my hand.
Elise gathered the forms. “There’s one more thing. A legal investigator named Priya Nand has agreed to take the matter as a formal external review. She can begin tomorrow.”
“Will Martin know?”
“He’ll know soon.”
Gabriel looked at me. “You can still stop.”
I thought of Martin’s pulse beating beneath his temple. I thought of the cameras turning toward me while he called me a threat.
“No,” I said. “I’m done letting other people decide what my fear means.”
When we stepped outside, the rain had weakened to a fine mist. Gabriel stood beside the curb, waiting for a car.
“You need medical attention,” he said.
“I need sleep.”
“That too.”
I almost smiled, but the movement pulled at my split lip.
He noticed and looked away first.
“I won’t come upstairs with you,” he said. “I won’t ask where you’re staying. But if you want someone outside the door while you talk to Priya tomorrow, I’ll be there.”
“That sounds like protection.”
“It’s an offer. You can refuse it.”
I studied him under the streetlamp. “And if I refuse?”
“I’ll leave.”
The simplicity of it reached me more deeply than concern had.
“Stay until the car comes,” I said.
May you like
He nodded.
We stood without touching while the city moved around us. For once, there was no drive between us, no camera, no accusation. Only the space I had chosen to let him occupy.
