"William."
Four feet of linoleum between us. He has to look down to hold my gaze and I tilt my chin up and hold it back. He is bigger up close than he was from across the room. The lines of his face are sharper than I remembered, every feature more defined by whatever the last ten years involved. There are lines at the corners of his eyes.
He is still devastatingly handsome.
The contempt is not new. It's just heavier now.
"Thank you for calling me." I can tell that he is being truthful and that he simultaneously resents having to say these words.
He pauses. Looks me straight in the eyes. "Why are you Charlotte's emergency contact?"
"She asked me to be. When she joined the academy." I keep my voice even. "She told me that if there ever was a circumstance where bad news had to be delivered to you, she wanted it to come from a friend of hers."
Something moves through his face at that. Hurt, I think, controlled fast enough that I can't be certain.
"I didn't know you had gotten in touch with each other again." Each word placed with deliberate, disgusted weight.
I take one step forward.
We are almost chest to chest now. I have to angle my chin up further to keep his eyes. This close the tension in his jaw is visible, the muscle below his ear pulled sharp.
"We never stopped."
The muscle in his jaw locks.
He told Charlie to end our friendship. He forbade her. And Charlie disobeyed. I am standing in this room because his sister chose specifically me, as the person she trusted with this, and if he thinks I'm going to apologize for that he is about to find out how wrong he is.
A hand closes gently on my arm. Grounding. Intentional.
I turn and look into Carter's steady eyes.
"I think we all need a fresh cup." He says it mostly aimed at me, with a brief glance at the soft, cold thing still in my hand. "It's going to be a long night. Come with me to the cafeteria?"
I know exactly what he's doing. And I understand why. This is not the time or the place.
I look to William's eyes one more second.
Then I toss the old cup in the trash and follow Carter out.
The corridor is colder than the waiting room and it smells like floor wax and recycled air. Our footsteps land flat on the linoleum. Carter doesn't fill the silence and I don't either, and we've walked most of the hallway before I speak.
"So you know Charlie." I watch his profile as I say it.
A beat. "Through William."
"You and William are… friends?"
"Yes." Another pause. "More than friends. Business partners."
I stop. No decision involved. My feet just do it, mid-corridor, no warning.
Carter stops too. He turns, faces me, doesn't crowd the space. Waits.
"Partners?" The idea too absurd to comprehend.
"Where do you think the M in MH Group comes from?" He watches me steadily. "Didn't Charlotte ever mention her brother's work?"
"She told me he was in the food and entertainment business," I say, registering now that she never once said the company name. "Nightclubs, restaurants—"
