He followed as she led him to her office, passing the server room once more, still trying to figure out how he could get inside. He didn’t even know if Simmon’s badge would unlock it. Norah rounded the corner in front of him, and he took the moment to swipe the badge, frowning when it beeped red.
He took a few steps to catch up, the worthless badge again nestled in his pocket. Norah shut the door behind them, hitting a button near the door that made the glass walls suddenly cloudy, granting them a bit of privacy.
“What are you doing here, Marshall?”
“Evaluating my portfolio,” he said, taking the chair opposite hers. He let his eyes trace, measure, and file away every detail. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been twenty years old, standing on a porch with his bag by her feet. She’d had a look on her face that had broken him, because it said she realized he couldn’t be the thing she needed.
“Liar,” she said. “Mr.Kincaidmight have been evaluating his portfolio, but the MarshallKelleyI know wouldn’t step foot in a place like this for financial advice.”
Marshall let the corner of his mouth shift in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “People change.”
“Not you.” She set the file down with deliberate care, knuckles still white. “The Marshall I knew didn’t dress like an investor, didn’t talk like one either. So what game are you playing?”
He leaned back in the chair, calm on the outside, his pulse tight beneath. “Not a game.”
That earned him a sharp look, one he remembered too well. The same look she’d given him when he said he’d come back. She hadn’t believed him then. She didn’t believe him now.
The silence stretched. She folded her arms, blazer creasing, shoulders squared. “Why are you really here?”
He let his eyes move across her face instead of answering—older, sharper, steadier now, but still Norah. The girl who’d laughed with him under string lights and whispered dreams about futures neither of them had gotten.
What could he tell her? Just because she worked at Summit didn’t mean she was involved. Finally, he said, “I’m interested in NorthBridge Energy.”
Her breath caught—barely—but enough. She looked away too fast, focusing on the file in her hands. Then she shook her head, a precise half-centimeter left-right. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”
Marshall’s voice was almost a groan. “Tell me it wasn’t you.”
Her head snapped up at that, eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know exactly what it means.” His voice was low, controlled, the kind of control that cost him. “I work for an off-books government security contractor. We got a call from a contact at the SEC. They figured we should know that someone was asking too many questions.”
Her shoulders stiffened. “It wasn’t me.”
He allowed himself a dry smile. “You were always a terrible liar.”
Something flared in her eyes—anger, old and honest. “You forfeited the right to sayalways.”
Fair. He let it land. He’d come for a reason, and nostalgia wasn’t it.
Marshall exhaled hard through his nose, dragging a hand across his jaw. He hated that he wasn’t surprised. “Norah?—”
“Don’t.” She cut him off, sharper than she meant. The file on her desk trembled under her palm. “Don’t say my name like that. And don’t look at me like I’m reckless just because I won’t turn a blind eye.”
“You think this is about being reckless?” His eyes pinned her, steady as stone. “It’s not just a boardroom squabble you’re poking at.”
She leaned forward now, anger edging her words. “You walk into my office under a fake name, sit across from me like astranger, and then—what? Lecture me? You don’t get to do that, Marshall.”
He let the name hang in the air between them, sharp and heavy. “I’m telling you to leave it alone.”
“And I’m telling you I won’t.” She pushed the file aside and planted both hands on the desk. “If there’s fraud in NorthBridge, I’m not turning away. People get hurt when lies like that hold.”
His eyes darkened, jaw tight. “You don’t know the kind of people you’re dealing with.”
Her voice dropped, steady as a blade. “Then tell me.”
He didn’t. Couldn’t. The less she knew, the safer she was. “Walk away, Norah.”
“I can’t.”
