Chapter 2 - That’s Really Your Father?
Grant Hart arrived nine minutes later.
Lexi’s father did not hurry.
Men like Grant Hart rarely hurried in public.
At forty-eight, he was president of Hart Maritime Development and chairman of Harbor Crest Yacht Club’s governing board. He had spent years cultivating the appearance of effortless authority—navy blazer, silver watch, perfect hair, a handshake that lingered exactly long enough to imply friendship.
The moment he saw David Morgan, the performance faltered.
“David.”
David did not offer his hand.
“Grant.”
Lexi stood several feet behind her father.
Grant glanced at her once.
That glance frightened Hannah more than shouting would have.
Lexi immediately looked down.
Grant turned back to David.
“Alan says there was an unfortunate situation.”
Hannah felt Noah stiffen beside her.
David said, “Your daughter poured dock water over mine.”
Grant’s eyes shifted toward Hannah’s clothes.
“I’m deeply sorry.”
Lexi looked up.
“Dad—”
“Not now.”
Those two words shut her down.
Grant continued.
“Teenagers make stupid choices.”
“She also accused Hannah of sneaking into the club,” Noah said.
Grant finally noticed him.
“Noah Bennett.”
Noah nodded.
“Sir.”
Grant’s smile contained no warmth.
“Your father is still doing engineering work for us, isn’t he?”
Hannah saw Noah understand the threat.
He answered anyway.
“Yes.”
“Then perhaps let the adults deal with this.”
David stepped between them slightly.
“Noah can speak.”
Grant’s smile disappeared.
Alan Pierce approached carrying towels.
“Miss Morgan, we have a private suite upstairs.”
Hannah shook her head.
“I’m not changing yet.”
David frowned.
“Hannah.”
“The folder is missing.”
Grant looked toward Alan.
“What folder?”
Hannah watched him closely.
The question sounded too clean.
David answered.
“Foundation due-diligence notes.”
Grant’s eyebrows rose.
“You brought confidential foundation documents to a youth regatta?”
Hannah felt the first stab of embarrassment.
It was a fair question.
David had warned her to keep the folder zipped inside the backpack.
She had been careless enough to take notes at lunch.
“I put them away.”
Grant looked at David.
“This is precisely why children should not be conducting financial reviews.”
Hannah’s cheeks burned.
David did not rescue her.
“That is a separate issue.”
She looked at him.
His refusal to defend her automatically hurt.
But she also understood why.
Truth first.
That was what he had always taught her.
Even when it was uncomfortable.
Grant said, “We’ll search the terrace.”
Brittany suddenly spoke.
“I saw Taylor near the bag.”
Taylor spun.
“What?”
“After the water.”
“You were filming!”
“I was filming Lexi!”
Lexi whispered, “Shut up, Brittany.”
David heard.
“So there is a recording.”
Brittany clutched her phone.
Grant turned toward her.
“You should give that to Mr. Pierce so we can preserve everyone’s privacy.”
“No,” Hannah said.
Every adult looked at her.
Brittany did too.
Hannah continued.
“Keep the original on your phone.”
Alan’s expression tightened.
David nodded.
“My lawyer can arrange a preservation copy.”
Grant laughed softly.
“Lawyers?”
David looked at him.
“My daughter was publicly assaulted and documents disappeared from her bag.”
“Assaulted is a dramatic word.”
“Then we can let the police choose the word.”
Grant’s face changed.
Only slightly.
“Surely that isn’t necessary.”
Hannah turned toward her father.
“I don’t want Lexi arrested.”
Lexi looked startled.
David said, “That’s not entirely your decision.”
“I know.”
Hannah took a breath.
“I want the video preserved. I want my folder found. And I want to know why scholarship kids told me they were being turned away from clinics funded in their names.”
Grant went still.
There.
Hannah saw it.
He knew exactly what she was talking about.
Alan interrupted.
“This is not the place.”
Hannah looked at him.
“Why not?”
“Because you lack context.”
“I interviewed six students.”
“You interviewed children without our permission.”
“They were participants.”
“You misrepresented yourself.”
“No. I told them I was Hannah.”
Grant stepped closer.
“Miss Morgan, your father’s foundation was invited to review financial records through proper channels. Sending his daughter here pretending to be an ordinary attendee is hardly transparent.”
Hannah felt humiliated again.
This time for a different reason.
Because part of Grant’s accusation was true.
She had wanted to attend anonymously.
She had wanted people to treat her normally.
David had reluctantly agreed.
“No driver,” he had complained that morning.
“I can take the shuttle.”
“Hannah.”
“Dad, if everyone knows whose daughter I am, how am I supposed to see anything real?”
Now she had seen something real.
Too much of it.
Noah handed her a dry towel.
Grant looked around at the remaining students.
“This conversation ends here.”
Hannah said, “No.”
Grant turned.
She held his gaze.
“You don’t get to decide when it ends.”
His face hardened.
Then Brittany’s phone buzzed.
She looked down.
Her eyes widened.
“What?” Noah asked.
Brittany swallowed.
“The club Wi-Fi sent a security notice.”
Alan turned sharply.
“What notice?”
She held up the phone.
“Terrace camera maintenance.”
Hannah looked toward the small black camera mounted beneath the roofline.
Brittany read the timestamp.
“It went offline five minutes ago.”
David’s gaze shifted to Alan Pierce.
Alan said quickly, “Cameras fail.”
Noah frowned.
“That one was working during breakfast.”
Hannah looked at the manager.
Then at the missing blue folder.
Then at Grant.
David pulled out his phone.
“Alan, nobody touches the security system.”
Grant smiled faintly.
“David, you don’t run this club.”
David looked at him.
“No.”
May you like
Then he glanced toward the students who had recorded Hannah’s humiliation from three different angles.
“But neither do you run every camera.”
