His eyes lifted to mine.
“That depends on the year.”
“That sounds convenient.”
“It sounds corporate.”
I hated that he was probably right.
He studied the photograph again.
“My sister hated those events. She went because the hospital convinced her that having a Prescott family member there would help fundraising.”
I looked at Caroline’s face.
She appeared tired but happy.
Alive.
“So that’s why you were there.”
“Yes.”
“And Ethan?”
“I don’t remember him.”
“He remembers you.”
“That’s possible.”
“How?”
“If he was working with Northbridge or one of its accounting firms, he could have attended as a guest.”
“He says his company was doing compliance work.”
Adrian’s eyes sharpened.
“You spoke to him?”
“Yes.”
“What did he tell you?”
I almost answered.
Then stopped.
Only hours earlier, I might have told Adrian everything.
He had been kind.
Patient.
He had helped me.
But kindness was not the same as trust.
Not yet.
“Enough to know Northbridge matters.”
Something like approval flickered in his eyes.
Not because I was withholding information.
Because I had chosen to.
“All right,” he said.
“You’re not going to ask?”
“I want to.”
“But?”
“But you’ve spent months having information taken out of your hands. I’m not going to do the same thing.”
That landed harder than I expected.
I looked away.
“Then answer the seat question.”
Adrian rubbed one hand over his face.
“My assistant booked the ticket.”
“Name?”
“Claire.”
“Did she choose fourteen B?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was someone else supposed to sit there before you?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I changed flights.”
I stared at him.
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
A different kind of tension entered the hallway.
“Why?”
“My original flight was delayed. I had a meeting in Houston tonight.”
“So you moved onto mine?”
“Yes.”
“How close to departure?”
“Less than two hours.”
I tried to remember boarding.
The exhausted man beside me.
The navy jacket.
The ridiculous napkin animals.
“If you changed flights at the last minute, then whoever wrote that note may have known.”
“Yes.”
“And whoever knew would need access to your travel.”
“Possibly.”
“Or mine.”
“Yes.”
I folded my arms.
“Who was supposed to be in fourteen B before you switched?”
Adrian stared at me.
Then glanced at the photograph.
“I don’t know.”
There it was again.
I almost smiled from sheer frustration.
“At least everyone is consistent tonight.”
“I can find out.”
“How?”
“Passenger manifests change. Airlines retain booking history.”
“Can you access that?”
“Not personally.”
“Good.”
He gave me a tired look.
“I do understand laws, Elena.”
“I’ve known you four hours.”
“Long enough to know I’m annoyingly careful.”
That almost made me laugh.
Almost.
He held the photograph out.
When I reached for it, he didn’t release it immediately.
“Whoever sent this wanted you to distrust me.”
I met his eyes.
“Maybe they wanted me to ask questions.”
“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”
“No.”
He let go.
The photo returned to my hand.
Behind me, Lily murmured in her sleep.
Both of us turned toward the sound.
That tiny movement broke the tension.
Adrian lowered his voice.
“You should rest.”
“You keep saying that.”
“You keep not doing it.”
“I’ve had a strange day.”
“That may be the understatement of the year.”
For a moment, we simply stood there.
Then I said, “I want to know who booked that seat.”
“So do I.”
“But I want the answer tomorrow. Not in some private report three weeks from now.”
“You’ll have whatever we can legally get.”
“We?”
“You.”
He corrected himself immediately.
“You’ll have whatever you can legally obtain. If you want help requesting it, Daniel can explain the process. That’s all.”
I studied him.
“You really think about every word, don’t you?”
“When people quote you for a living, you learn.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
For the first time that night, his smile reached his eyes.
Only briefly.
Then he glanced at the photograph again.
“May I ask one question?”
“Yes.”
“Why was Ethan investigating Northbridge?”
I should have refused.
Instead I said, “He says there were financial discrepancies.”
Adrian’s smile disappeared.
“What kind?”
“Medical supplies paid for but never delivered.”
He went absolutely still.
Not surprised.
Not exactly.
Recognizing something.
I saw it.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
I stared at him.
He sighed.
“You’re right. That was a terrible answer.”
“What did you remember?”
Adrian looked toward the window at the far end of the hallway.
“Caroline once complained about treatment delays.”
My pulse quickened.
“What kind of delays?”
“Medication. Equipment. I don’t know. At the time we assumed it was normal hospital bureaucracy.”
“Did she ever mention Northbridge?”
“No.”
“Did you investigate?”
“She was sick.”
His voice tightened.
“I was trying to be her brother, not the CEO of a healthcare company.”
That silenced me.
Regret passed across his face with such naked clarity that I felt ashamed for pushing.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to be.”
“Yes, I do.”
He looked at me.
“I’m beginning to understand something.”
“What?”
“Everyone around this situation seems to have decided what other people should be allowed to know.”
The sentence settled between us.
Ethan protecting me.
Sam warning Ethan.
Adrian’s company making decisions he may never have seen.
Someone sending me a photograph.
Someone choosing what truth appeared when.
“I’m tired of that,” I said.
“So am I.”
This time, we agreed without hesitation.
Lily woke at six twenty in the morning and announced that she wanted pancakes.
Not answers.
Not financial records.
Not explanations of why her parents had stopped living together.
Pancakes.
Her hair stood in every direction.
One sock had vanished.
She sat in the middle of the hotel bed holding her rabbit and looked at me with complete faith that breakfast would happen because breakfast always happened.
“Chocolate chips?” she asked.
“You ate chocolate chips yesterday.”
“So?”
I stared at her.
She stared back.
I laughed.
It was the first laugh that felt like mine in weeks.
“Fine. But fruit too.”
“Strawberries.”
“If they have them.”
“They have them.”
“You seem very confident.”
She nodded gravely.
“Hotels have strawberries.”
Apparently four-year-olds possessed international hospitality knowledge I did not.
Twenty minutes later, we were downstairs.
I had expected Adrian to be gone.
Instead, he was sitting at a corner table with Daniel, a laptop open between them and a cup of coffee untouched at his elbow.
He looked worse than he had the night before.
Lily spotted him.
“Airplane Adrian!”
Several people turned.
Adrian closed his eyes.
Daniel hid a smile behind his coffee.
I wanted the floor to open.
Lily ran toward the table.
“Good morning!”
Adrian looked at her.
Then at me.
“Airplane Adrian?”
“She names people by location.”
“I’m afraid to ask what she calls her pediatrician.”
“Sticker Doctor.”
“That’s fair.”
Lily climbed into the chair beside him as though billionaires were simply another category of breakfast companion.
“Are you getting pancakes?”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Hotels have strawberries.”
Adrian looked at me.
“I’m clearly underinformed.”
Something warm moved through my chest.
Dangerously warm.
This was how life tricked people.
Not with grand gestures.
With ordinary moments you hadn’t planned to want.
I sat across from them.
Daniel closed the laptop.
“We have some information.”
My stomach tightened.
Lily looked between us.
“About pancakes?”
“Not yet,” Adrian said solemnly.
I smiled despite myself.
“Let me feed her first.”
“No problem.”
And that was what we did.
For twenty minutes, the mystery waited.
Lily ate pancakes, six strawberries, and exactly one bite of scrambled egg after negotiating the terms as if she were representing a labor union.
Adrian let her draw on a hotel notepad.
She drew an airplane.
Then herself.
Then me.
Then a very tall stick figure beside us.
“Who’s that?” Adrian asked.
“You.”
His eyebrows rose.
“I’m honored.”
“You have big arms.”
Daniel choked on his coffee.
I covered my face.
Adrian examined the drawing.
“I look remarkably healthy.”
“You carried the stroller.”
“I did.”
Lily added something beside him.
A small square.
“What’s that?”
“Your suitcase.”
“I didn’t have a suitcase.”
She considered this flaw in reality.
Then turned the square into what looked like a dog.
“There.”
“Much better.”
Watching him with her confused me.
Ethan had always loved Lily.
That was part of what made everything so difficult.
People were easier when they were one thing.
Good.
Bad.
Kind.
Cruel.
Faithful.
Dishonest.
But Ethan could be patient with Lily and controlling with me.
He could remember my mother’s birthday and hide financial decisions.
He could lie to me while perhaps believing he was protecting us.
And Adrian could be considerate while still carrying secrets I didn’t understand.
Maybe growing up meant accepting that people rarely arrived in clean categories.
Maybe strength meant learning to see complexity without surrendering your own judgment.
I looked at Lily.
She had syrup on her cheek.
At least some things were simple.
I wiped it away.
“Okay,” I said. “Tell me what you found.”
Daniel opened the laptop.
“Your booking was made nine days ago.”
“I know.”
“Mr. Prescott changed onto your flight yesterday afternoon at 2:14 p.m.”
Adrian nodded.
“And fourteen B?” I asked.
Daniel turned the screen toward me.
“The seat had been occupied.”
My heart began to pound.
“By who?”
“A passenger named Claire Ellison.”
Adrian stopped moving.
I looked at him.
“Claire?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
Daniel did.
“Mr. Prescott’s executive assistant.”
I stared at Adrian.
“You said Claire booked your ticket.”
“She did.”
“And she was supposed to sit beside me?”
“Apparently.”
Lily was drawing beside us.
I lowered my voice.
“Why?”
Adrian looked genuinely shaken.
“I don’t know.”
“Was she traveling to Houston?”
“Yes, but on my original flight.”
“Then why did she have a seat on mine?”
He turned to Daniel.
Daniel clicked through the reservation history.
“Seat fourteen B was booked under Ms. Ellison’s name six days ago. She cancelled it yesterday at 1:51 p.m.”
“Twenty-three minutes before you changed flights,” I said.
“Yes.”
“And then Adrian took the same seat?”
Daniel nodded.
“Was that automatic?”
“No.”
I looked at Adrian.
“Did Claire move you?”
“I told her to get me onto the earliest Houston flight. I didn’t choose the seat.”
“Then she put you there.”
He reached for his phone.
Daniel stopped him.
“Sir.”
“What?”
