Chapter 11 - What Adrian Knew
Adrian met Mara at a church parking lot halfway between Manhattan and Bedford.
Neutral ground.
No lawyers.
No Celeste.
At least that was what he promised.
Mara remained inside her car.
He stood beside the passenger door.
She lowered the window four inches.
“You had the sleep medicine.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I bought it.”
“For me?”
“For the house.”
“What does that mean?”
“Mom said you were exhausted and your doctor had approved an over-the-counter sleep aid.”
“My doctor never said that.”
“I know.”
“When did you find out?”
“After the hospital.”
“And you didn’t tell police.”
“My lawyer told me not to speculate.”
Mara laughed.
“You touched the bottle.”
“I brought it home.”
“Did you ever put it in my tea?”
“No.”
“Did you know Celeste did?”
“No.”
“Did you ask her to?”
“No.”
“Did you tell her to monitor me?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Yes.”
The answer hurt even though Mara already knew it.
“How?”
“I asked her to tell me if you seemed unsafe.”
“What did unsafe mean?”
“Leaving doors unlocked. Falling asleep with Ivy. Forgetting things.”
“Things your mother staged.”
“Yes.”
“And the hidden nursery camera?”
He looked away.
“I authorized an executive security purchase.”
“So you bought it.”
“I authorized the account. Celeste told me she wanted a baby monitor with remote access.”
“Why was it hidden?”
“I didn’t know it would be hidden.”
“But you knew she planned to watch me.”
Silence.
Mara opened the car door.
Adrian stepped back.
She got out.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“You were helping her.”
“I thought I was protecting Ivy.”
“You were helping her build a case.”
“I didn’t know about the custody binder.”
“You signed a custody declaration.”
“After she showed me weeks of evidence.”
“Evidence she created.”
“I know.”
Mara’s voice cracked.
“And when I told you someone was moving things, what did you say?”
Adrian whispered, “That you were tired.”
“You made me doubt myself.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You made me apologize to your mother for being suspicious.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You signed papers saying I frightened you.”
“I was frightened.”
“Of me?”
He shook his head.
“Of everything.”
There it was.
The flaw beneath all of it.
Adrian was not cruel.
He was afraid.
Afraid of scandal.
Afraid of financial collapse.
Afraid of losing his mother.
Afraid of becoming his father.
So he waited.
Compromised.
Signed.
Looked away.
And every delay gave Celeste more power.
Mara said, “Ezra has a letter from Henry.”
Adrian’s face changed.
“You found him?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“Your father knew Celeste, Victor, and Malcolm were stealing from the company.”
Adrian leaned against his car.
“No.”
“He had records.”
“No.”
“Six-point-three million.”
Adrian looked physically ill.
Mara continued.
“Henry wanted to expose them.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Ezra does.”
“Ezra hated my mother.”
“Why?”
“Because she fired him.”
“He retired.”
“After she forced him out.”
“Maybe because he knew too much.”
Adrian shook his head.
“Mara, you’re seeing one side.”
She almost shouted.
Then stopped.
“No.”
Her voice became softer.
“I spent years seeing your side.”
Adrian looked at her.
“That’s why we’re standing here.”
He said nothing.
Mara opened her car door.
Adrian whispered, “What do you want from me?”
“Truth.”
“I’m telling you.”
“No. You’re giving me pieces after I discover them.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Then tell me something I don’t know.”
He stood silent for several seconds.
Then his shoulders dropped.
“My father gave me a memo.”
Mara froze.
“When?”
“Four months before he died.”
“What memo?”
“A preliminary internal audit.”
“About Rainbridge?”
“Yes.”
Her chest tightened.
“What did you do?”
“I put it in my safe.”
“And?”
“I never acted on it.”
“Why?”
“Dad’s cancer had spread. The bank was threatening to call one of our construction loans. If accusations hit the board—”
“You buried it.”
“I delayed.”
“You buried it.”
Adrian’s voice rose.
“I was trying to save three thousand jobs.”
“And your mother stole millions.”
“I didn’t know the scope.”
“You knew enough.”
He looked broken now.
But Mara no longer confused brokenness with innocence.
“Where’s the memo?”
“Gone.”
“What?”
“After Dad died, I looked for it. It was gone.”
“Who had your safe code?”
He closed his eyes.
Mara already knew.
“Celeste.”
Adrian nodded.
Mara stepped into her car.
Before she closed the door, Adrian said, “There’s one more thing.”
She looked at him.
“The night my father died, my mother asked me to destroy a box of his financial papers.”
Mara’s hands went cold.
“Did you?”
“Some.”
“You destroyed evidence?”
“I thought they were outdated drafts.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
Mara stared at the man she had loved for nine years.
“What was written on the box?”
May you like
Adrian swallowed.
“Rainbridge.”
