Chapter 19: Make Her Jump

The gold dress still fit.

Maggie zipped it up in the back room of the diner and stood behind me at the mirror with her chin on my shoulder.

"Two hundred donors," she said. "You're going to walk in there like you own the building."

"I own a key to a carriage house I gave back."

"Details."

The Hartford Grand ballroom blazed with chandeliers.

Phillip met me at the foot of the grand staircase in his navy suit.

He took my hand without a word and laced his fingers through mine.

We walked in together.

Two hundred heads turned, and the murmur followed us all the way across the floor.

The video of the lobby had been on the evening news. Half the room had seen me lay my key on the marble.

Everard stood at the center of it in black tie, with a glass of scotch in one hand.

"There she is," he said, and the nearest donors laughed. "The girl of the hour. Come, my dear, we have a special surprise."

I did not let go of Phillip's hand.

"Before the toasts," Everard said, raising his voice, "there's something I owe our guests. A matter that has weighed on this Foundation."

He turned to the crowd.

"A friend of my son's came to me with a serious concern. I asked him to speak tonight, because the truth deserves a public room."

Beckett stepped out from between two tables.

His father stood stiffly behind him with a hand on his shoulder.

Beckett's face was white. He held his phone tight in one fist.

"Beckett," Everard said gently. "Go on."

"I..." Beckett's eyes found mine, and then dropped. "On the night before the SAT, I saw Hallie Preble go into Phillip's garage."

A gasp went around the ballroom.

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