Chapter 13 - People Who Would Sign Their Names
Lila spent Sunday asking people what they wanted instead of telling them what they should do.
Ray wanted his job back, but he also wanted a record showing that he'd refused to falsify a time sheet. Tasha wanted her unpaid wages and assurances that her children would not be dragged into another news story. Owen wanted to know if the strange man would return to school. Nora wanted Lila to stop making every decision alone.
Dina took their statements in separate meetings. A worker-rights investigator had agreed to review the payroll complaint, and Mara Chen was preparing a packet for the district attorney concerning the threats and Pierpoint's accounts. Neither attorney promised a quick result.
When Curtis finally came in, he brought the off-book accounting envelope himself. He signed a statement describing the deductions and the pressure to make a false theft allegation against Lila.
“Who told you to accuse me?” Lila asked afterward, with Dina present.
“Nico,” Curtis said. “He said you were asking questions and that the necklace made you a liability.”
“Did he explain why?”
“No. He said somebody in your family had caused trouble before.”
The phrase hollowed out Lila's stomach. Her mother had become a warning passed between men who wanted people to be quiet.
Curtis's statement did not erase his choices. Dina made sure he understood the workers could still seek back pay and damages. Curtis signed anyway. There was a tired relief in his face, as if accountability were finally less exhausting than concealment.
Sal sent Judith Reese's preliminary findings directly to his counsel, who arranged to deliver relevant records through proper channels. When he met with Lila at the worker center, he came without Gus or a briefcase of cash.
“I can help with your rent,” he said.
“No.”
“I know what you said before. I'm asking this time.”
Lila considered the envelope under her door, the orchestra fees, the groceries she hadn't bought. Her refusal hurt more than she'd expected.
“If you want to help,” she said, “make the people you underpaid whole. Not just me.”
He nodded. “That's fair.”
“Fair isn't enough. It has to be documented, and it can't depend on anyone staying quiet.”
“I'll speak to the attorneys.”
When he left, Owen appeared from the hallway carrying two cheap coffees. He placed one in front of his sister.
“You turned down a lot of money,” he said.
“I know.”
“I'm still keeping orchestra.”
May you like
“Then we'd better find a cheaper apartment.”
They smiled at each other, just once. It was enough to get through the afternoon.
