Chapter 19: Not Owed

My father took the paper in both hands and read the first line.

Then he read it again, and he looked at me.

"Keeva," he said. "Say what you want me to do with this."

"Don't touch it," I said.

Costa's face changed.

"I'm not refusing it," I said. "I'm refusing him."

"Keeva," said my father.

"Dad, put it on the table."

He put it on the hall table.

I stood across from Costa in my father's narrow hall, with the framed photographs of my mother on the wall behind me.

"You did this at midnight," I said. "Without asking."

"If I'd asked, you would have said no."

"Yes."

"And Russell would have had a week to find another way to hurt your father."

"That isn't the point."

"What is the point?"

"The point is that I am sick of being owed." My voice cracked, and I let it.

"I spent two years being somebody's debt. Russell's, Nigel's, my own father's. Now I'm yours."

"You're not."

"Two million dollars is a debt, Costa."

"It's a payment I made."

"For what?"

He took too long to answer.

"For the thing I did," he said at last. "I looked at your picture and planned to use you."

"I can't give that back. I can give back what it cost your father."

"So you bought your way out of it."

"No." He said it quietly, and his hands closed at his sides.

"I know the difference. I'm not buying your forgiveness."

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