Chapter 20: The Door Left Open

On Monday at nine the board met in the same room where they had suspended me.

I was not a member of the meeting, as my father had pointed out in writing.

I was a shareholder, and the bylaws let a shareholder sit in the back row.

I sat in the back row in a gray dress, with Mateo beside me and a laptop on my knees.

The nine directors took their seats.

Preston's chair, three down from my father, was empty.

He had been removed from every committee over the weekend, by a vote of the directors who had watched the screen on Friday.

"Mr. Chairman," said the eldest director. "We've received a request to hear from the director of events."

My father smiled across the table with perfect calm.

"The woman has been under great strain. I'd advise against it."

"She asked to be heard by the full board. I'm granting it."

The door opened, and Marisol came in.

She wore a plain black dress and no lipstick.

She carried a small speaker, her phone and the gray envelope pressed against her ribs.

She did not look at me.

She set the speaker on the table, and her hand shook once before she pressed play.

"This is a voice memo," she said. "I made it the second year, in Suite 1408, with the phone in my coat."

A man's voice came out of the speaker, low and warm.

"Marisol, dear. I need you to keep him comfortable."

"He's comfortable, Henrik."

"A man with a secret never argues. Keep it that way until June."

I did not look at my father.

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