Chapter 6 - The Thing I Couldn't Undo
Nora deleted the post. The screenshot had already traveled farther than she could reach.
Grace arranged a conversation with a detective handling intimidation complaints and urged Reggie to give a supplementary statement. Reggie agreed only after he moved his wife to her sister's home for a few days. He did not blame Nora in front of the detective, which somehow made her feel worse.
"I was angry," Nora told him when they finally spoke alone. "I thought a neighborhood page could help identify the car. I didn't think through what people would do with your name."
"You should have," Reggie replied.
"I know."
"Your father was the kind of man who protected other drivers even when it cost him. Don't make me regret trusting you."
She deserved that. She also understood the distinction between a genuine apology and the kind Silas had first offered at the diner: regret that arrived before the full truth.
Meanwhile business fell. Two regular customers canceled standing orders because they feared a confrontation. Her landlord, a retired accountant who normally fixed broken fixtures himself, asked whether Nora had purchased adequate insurance for damage caused by vandalism. She had. But her policy deductible was enough to erase a month's profit.
At the end of the week, an inspector from the city's health department arrived after an anonymous complaint alleging a pest problem. He found no infestation, documented ordinary corrective items, and told her the complaint had not influenced his assessment. Nora thanked him. She would not accuse another person of corruption merely because someone was making her life miserable.
Silas arrived at Grace's office with his attorney, Miriam Vale, and two sealed cartons of records. His doctor had asked him to stop driving. He appeared smaller without his coat, though he still carried the practiced authority of a man accustomed to having the room adjust to him.
Miriam gave Grace a preliminary inventory: bank transfers, contract amendments, insurance correspondence, and a set of electronic records from Silas's companies. Several documents were attorney communications potentially protected by privilege. They agreed to have counsel review disclosure obligations and preserve the underlying facts without trying to disguise incriminating evidence.
Nora watched through the conference-room glass, unable to hear. She had demanded evidence; now its arrival made her stomach tighten.
Grace emerged with a spreadsheet. "One series of payments went to a consulting firm connected to the former warehouse safety manager. Silas says they were supposed to cover compliance work. The timing and descriptions warrant investigation."
"Bribes?"
"Maybe. We cannot say that yet."
"What can we say?"
"We have records worth referring to appropriate authorities, including possible fraud in trucking invoices and the way a known safety hazard was handled."
"Does any of it prove who chained the exit?"
"Not by itself."
Nora heard her own frustrated laugh. The world apparently did not divide neatly into evidence and excuses. It required patience with details that refused to speak before they were understood.
Back at the diner she found the front window marked with a greasy thumbprint. Someone had written LIAR on the glass. Emilio photographed it, cleaned it, and said they would keep the camera footage even if it showed nothing useful.
At midnight Denise arrived carrying a casserole that nobody had asked for. She took one look at her daughter's exhausted face and set the dish down.
"I made you carry my fear," she said. "I told myself keeping quiet was the only way to keep you safe. Then I let you grow up believing your father died through carelessness."
Nora's anger returned, but it was exhausted now. "He went because he thought his drivers would lose their jobs. If you'd told me, I might have understood him better."
"I was ashamed I couldn't bear to face it."
"I don't need you to be fearless. I need you to tell me the truth even when you're not."
Denise nodded, tears in her eyes.
The next morning Grace called before the diner opened.
"State investigators want to meet you," she said. "And Silas's lawyers told me something I need you to hear before we go. Dorian's company has filed suit against your business for unpaid fees."
Nora stared at the unopened bakery delivery by the door.
May you like
"We never signed a contract."
"That's exactly what we're going to establish."
