Celeste cleared her throat and handed each of the Willinghams a printed document and a pen. “I assure you that the students involved have been penalized—some far beyond what was deserved,” she said, casting a meaningful glance at Vero. “We will now kindly ask each of you to sign this letter stating that you do not intend to pursue the matter further or discuss it with anyone who wasn’t directly involved.”
Mr. Willingham read it with a derisive laugh. “You’re asking us to sign an NDA?”
“I’m asking you to acknowledge that the matter has been resolved.”
Mr. Willingham sat forward in his chair and pushed the paper and pen back toward her. “Repaying us what was lost a yearago does nothing to compensate us for the damages we’ve suffered since.”
“What damages might those be?” Celeste asked with impressive restraint.
“Shall we discuss the interest on the money you held for a year?” he asked haughtily. “Or perhaps the time my wife and I had to take off work to deal with all this? What about the loans we had to take out to cover tuition while our money was being recovered? And then there’s the emotional damage Emory suffered. Just because we didn’t choose to raise the issue with the university before doesn’t mean we won’t in the future. The statute of limitations on personal injury in Maryland is three years. I, for one, intend to retain the right to exercise it.”
Vero stepped forward to interrupt. “I guess that gives me a few years to exercise mine, too.”
Mr. Willingham pulled a face. “What couldyoupossibly have to complain about?”
Vero set my cell phone on the table and pushed it toward him. “How about the eggs on my mother’s house and the spray paint on her garage? Or maybe you’d like to discuss her broken window?”
“I don’t see what any of that has to do with us,” Mr. Willingham said, refusing to look at the screen.
“That’s the footage from my neighbor’s security camera. You want to know what’s on it? A Volkswagen—one that looks an awful lot like the one parked in front of this building right now. It drove past my mother’s house on the exact same nights some criminal egged her front door and spray-painted a threatening message on her garage. I’m betting that car was also there the night someone tossed a rock through her window while we were eating dinner. You know what else I’m betting? That when the police run those plates through the DMV’s database, we’re going to find out thatvehicle is registered to your son.” Emory sank lower in his chair, as if he wished it might swallow him up. His hands, and his keys, slid quietly into his lap.
Mr. Willingham’s eyes darted to the phone. His wife glanced sideways at her son, looking scandalized.
“What?! I have no idea who threw that rock at her window!” Emory blurted, omitting any mention of the eggs and the spray paint.
Mrs. Willingham looked ill. Mr. Willingham wedged a finger into the knot of his tie, as if it were suddenly too tight.
Vero’s smile was understandably smug. “I could talk about the financial damagesIincurred, but we all know emotional ones carry heavier price tags.” She glanced at Mia and Ava, who were doing their best to hide their smirks. “I suppose my attorney could estimate what he thinks we could get in court for all this, Mr. Willingham, but I’m guessing you might be happier just to sign that paper and call this whole mess satisfactorily resolved.”
Mr. Willingham’s face reddened as he stared at the nondisclosure agreement in front of him. His pen nearly tore a hole in the paper as he signed the form with an indecipherable signature. Emory’s mother signed hers in neatly flowing script. Emory scowled at the signature line as he jotted his name. The bold block letters were a match to the ones I’d seen on the broken eggshells.
But none of their signatures matched the writing on any of the other notes.
Mr. Willingham rose from his chair. He shoved their signed forms across the table to Celeste. “Now that our business is concluded, I trust this will be the last we’ll speak about it.”
Vero stuck out a foot, blocking his path to the door when he attempted to leave. She held out a palm. “That power washer wasn’t cheap.”
Jaw clenched, Mr. Willingham took a small stack of bills from his wallet and slapped them into Vero’s hand. He glared at her foot until she removed it from his path, then he stormed out of the room.
The rest of us let out a collective sigh of relief when they were gone. Celeste tucked the signed agreements safely into her messenger bag.
“That was quick thinking,” I said to Vero. “When did you figure out Emory was the one who vandalized your mother’s house?”
“I didn’t,” she admitted. “I suspected it might have been one of the Willinghams when I spotted a Volkswagen parked along the curb when we got here. Then I noticed Emory’s key fob and took a gamble on my hunch. I figured if Emory was innocent, he would demand to see proof. But guilty people don’t like being faced with their mistakes. It’s easier to look away. And that’s exactly what he did.” Vero tucked the cash into her pocket.
Zoey and Cam peeked into the library. Vero waved them inside. Judging by their relieved smiles, I was guessing they’d heard every word. “So,” Zoey asked, “what now?”
Celeste paused as she considered that. “Since no other students have come forward to register complaints, the chapter will take a vote and decide where to donate the rest of the money. And an interim president will need to be selected since Zoey’s stepping down.”
Zoey’s face fell. “Should I pack my things?” she asked in a small voice.
Celeste rested a hand on her shoulder. “I wouldn’t start packing just yet. The house still needs to vote on that, too. If Veronica would be willing, maybe she could come to the chapter meeting and speak on your behalf. Veronica has more of a reason to be upset than anyone. If she can forgive you for what happened, I see noreason your sisters won’t, too. It would be good if you could join us,” she said to Vero. “We all have a bit of apologizing to do, including me.”
Vero put an arm around Zoey. “Since I’m free to come and go across the state line whenever I want now, I’m sure that can be arranged.”
Mia’s smile was self-effacing. “When you do come back for the meeting, we should all go out for dinner after. It would be good to catch up. I’d love to know what you’ve been up to since you moved out.”
Vero laughed. “How many hours have you got?”
