Chapter 13: Two Million

The complaint was forty-one pages long.

I read it standing in the hallway while the nurse wheeled Kit into the elevator without me.

Kenzie Lowell, a devoted employee of good character, had been subjected to a campaign of false and malicious accusations.

The defendant had told a police detective that Ms. Lowell made a phone call she never made.

The defendant had told a public meeting that Ms. Lowell faked a medical emergency.

Ms. Lowell now suffered from anxiety, insomnia and loss of appetite.

Ms. Lowell lit a candle every night for the defendant's sister.

That one was on page nine. I read it twice.

When I got down to the fourth floor, Kit was back in her old room, eating red Jell-O with an IV in each arm.

"Who was the mustache?" she said.

I handed her the envelope.

She read the first page and the last page, the way she read everything.

"Two million dollars," she said. "That's insulting. I'd have asked for three."

"Kit."

"She lights a candle for me? What kind of candle? Is it scented?"

"Page nine."

Kit turned to page nine and laughed so hard the monitor beeped at her.

The nurse came running.

"Sorry," Kit wheezed. "Sorry. I'm fine. My sister's being sued by a swan."

By the time we flew home three days later, it was in the papers.

The Boston paper ran it on the business page, with a photo of Kenzie leaving her lawyer's office in sunglasses.

DELANO AIDE SUES BILLIONAIRE'S ESTRANGED WIFE OVER "CRUEL LIES."

Under it, a smaller line.

Wife, a former pilot, accused assistant of sabotaging sister's transplant.

They'd used my wedding photo. The one from the silver frame. Somebody had cropped Pierce out of it.

Sawyer's grandmother read the whole article at the hangar kitchen counter with her glasses on the end of her nose.

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