After the formal presentation, I notice Xavier watching from near the parking area. He raises his coffee cup in a mock salute. Then he climbs into his car and drives away.
Fucker.
Well, he got what he came for, I suppose.
Reconnaissance complete.
Thorne appears at my elbow. “Extraction route is clear. Keon’s staged near the service entrance.”
“Let’s go,” I tell him.
Amara and I slip away while the crowd is still mingling.
Keon drives the long way home. Sable follows at a distance.
We’re ten minutes into the drive when Amara finally speaks. “You’re using charity as a shield.”
There it is.
So itdoesbother her, after all.
Maybe I should’ve asked her on the drive after all.
I could’ve called it off..
No.
I refuse to second guess myself.
I needed this.
I look at her and sigh. “If I don’t control the narrative, Xavier will.”
“And what happens when the truth comes out anyway?” She’s not looking at me. Just staring out the window at the passing landscape. “When people realize the timing wasn’t coincidental?”
I don’t have an answer.
She lets the silence stretch. Then: “The donation was real. The impact will be real. But you did it for the wrong reasons. You’re still hiding, Corin. Just with better PR.”
She’s not wrong.
I felt like an asshole during the entire dog-and-pony show.
And that should tell me everything I need to know.
Back at The Westlight,I retreat to my study while Amara disappears into the guest office with her latest stack of archived documents from the clinic. She’s been systematically working through everything, cross-referencing digital records with paper files, looking for any inconsistencies.
I should be helping.
Instead I’m staring at my laptop, answering emails from Noemi about board meeting schedules and trying not to think about how this whole thing could collapse.
It’s almost eight when I hear her shout.
Not a scream.
Not distress.
Excitement.
