Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Henry
Fifth call. Still no answer.
I sat in my car outside Madison Center, the glow from the screen throwing streaks of light across the dashboard. My call history showed five attempts, each ending in the same dead air. My thumb hovered over her name again, my grandfather’s words from earlier settling over me like a lead blanket.
Of course, she was—after all these years of silence, what right did I have to expect anything else?
But I couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after what James told me—what I saw this morning.
I pressed redial. Sixth call.
The line rung once. Twice. I braced for the click of voicemail, the inevitable defeat. Then, a voice.
“Hello?”
I froze. Her voice was cautious and neutral. My heart kicked into overdrive, pounding in my ears like an alarm.
“Savvy, it’s me,” I said before she could hang up .
There was a pause, sharp and deliberate. “What do you want, Henry?” Her voice was clipped—she wasn’t interested in pleasantries.
“Please, don’t hang up,” I blurted. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. “This is important.”
Another pause. I could practically hear her weighing her options. She was deciding whether to cut me off or let me get to the point.
“You’ve got two minutes,” she said, her voice clipped.
“It’s about James,” I started, my voice steadier now. This was the part that mattered.
The shift in her demeanor was immediate. “Is he okay?” she asked, concern cracking through her professional armor.
“Normally, no,” I admitted, my jaw tightening. “But this morning was different. You made a difference, Savvy. He was himself again, even if just for a little while.”
“Henry,” she cut in, her voice sharpening like a blade. “If this is some manipulative ploy to drag me back into your family’s mess…”
“It’s not,” I interrupted, sharper than I intended. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “This isn’t about the family. It’s about James. Please, he needs you.”
There was a long stretch of silence. I could almost hear her pacing, the scrape of a chair, or the sound of footsteps muffled on the other end.
“Do you know what you’re asking of me?” she said, her voice sharp and unsteady. “Do you even care what this has cost me? Henry, my career is…” She stopped herself, but I knew exactly what she was thinking, what she’d lost because of me.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” I said, guilt twisting in my chest. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Savvy. Or your career. ”
“But you did,” she snapped. “You always do. And now you want me to risk even more? For what?”
“For him,” I said, my voice almost breaking. “For James. Because today … today was the best day he’s had in months, Savvy. You gave him that. And I want him to have more days like this, when he’s himself again.”
Her exhale was sharp, almost like a sardonic laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Well, I’m glad you got one good day, Henry, because I came home to find out your family is meddling in my life—again. Building inspections and last-minute Hail Marys from James? You can’t stay out of my life, can you?”
“I know,” I admitted, my jaw tightening. “My father is at it again. He’s behind the inspector.”
Her silence was heavy, loaded with anger and resignation.
“Of course he is,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain. “Why wouldn’t he be? God forbid Richard Kingston lets me live in peace.”
“I’ll fix it,” I said quickly, my voice steady with a conviction I’m not sure I deserve. “I’ll do whatever it takes to stop him. … but don’t let James spend his last days wondering what might have been. He needs you, Savvy. And whether or not you want to admit it, you know it.”
She didn’t reply immediately, but I heard her exhale—sharp and weary. “I told him I’d think about it,” she said softly, almost like she was reminding herself.
“Thank you,” I said, relief and guilt flooding through me all at once. “That’s all I’m asking. Just … don’t wait too long. The good days are slipping away faster than we can hold onto them.”
“Goodbye, Henry,” she said, her voice sharper now, with a note of finality.
“Savvy, wait?—”
The line went dead.
I dropped the phone into the passenger seat, the silence in the car suddenly deafening. For a long moment, I sat there, staring at the dashboard. I’d been able to fix things, smooth over the cracks, and keep the machine running. But this? This felt like trying to hold water in my hands. No matter what I did, it kept slipping through.
My phone buzzed again, pulling me back into reality.
Mason
Your father rescheduled the board meeting. Tomorrow morning, 7 a.m.
Perfect. As if this day wasn’t complicated enough.
I pressed Mason’s name on the screen and waited as the line rang.
“Henry,” he answered on the second ring, his voice curt. “I assume you got my message.”
“Yeah,” I said, rubbing a hand over my face. “Why the change? What’s he up to now?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Mason replied. “Something about ensuring everyone’s priorities are … aligned.” He paused, letting the words hang in the air.
I exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling to the surface. “Mason, why are you even helping me? You know how this ends. You’ve seen it enough times to know my father doesn’t lose.”
There was a long stretch of silence on the other end, and I pictured Mason pacing wherever he was, debating whether to tell me the truth or feed me a line.
“Because someone has to,” he said. “I can’t fight him, but I can give you enough room to try.”
For a moment, I was caught off guard. Mason had always been loyal to my father—at least, that’s what I’d thought. “You don’t believe in him anymore, do you?”
“Let’s say I know who Richard Kingston is,” he replied, his voice sharper now. “And I know who you’re trying to be. If you want to take him on, you’ll need every advantage you can get.”
I paused, unsure how to respond. Mason’s words hit harder than I expected, and for the first time, I saw him as more than a shadow of my father’s empire.
“Thank you,” I said, the words feeling inadequate.
“Don’t thank me yet,” Mason replied. “Your father has a habit of turning advantages into liabilities. Be ready for tomorrow.”
“I will,” I promised, even as doubt coiled tight in my chest.
I started the car, the engine rumbling to life beneath me. The city lights stretched out ahead, glittering like a maze of dead ends. Tonight, all I could think about is the way Savvy’s voice trembled when she said goodbye. And how, after everything, I still didn’t know how to fix what I’d broken without breaking it all over again.
I gripped the steering wheel tightly, the doubt Mason planted in my mind growing roots. Tomorrow felt like a storm I couldn’t fully prepare for, and the thought of facing my father with so much at stake made the air feel heavier in my chest.
But it wasn’t the board meeting that had my thoughts tangled. It was her.
Savvy’s goodbye kept replaying in my mind, soft and uneven, cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. I thought walking away once would protect her. I thought the distance would shield her from the fallout of my family’s chaos. But I was wrong .
I glanced at my phone sitting in the console. My hand hovered over it, a thousand thoughts fighting for attention. For a moment, I just sat there.
Then I picked up the phone.
A long exhale escaped me as I typed her a message. My thumb hesitated for a fraction of a second before I pressed send.
The screen darkened as I set the phone back down and let my head rest against the seat. Tomorrow, everything could change—one way or another. For now, I could only drive forward and hope the pieces I’d set in motion didn’t come crashing down.