Chapter 9 #2
“She was good to me when I was very ill.” Erin wrapped both hands around the mug. “I don’t know how to hold that together with what Nathan told me.”
“You don’t have to solve it today.”
Erin looked up, tears bright in her eyes. “Is that how you’re doing this?”
“No,” Annie said. “I’m solving too much today. I don’t recommend it.”
A faint, sad smile moved across Erin’s mouth and vanished. She looked down at the tea, then back at Annie. “I owe you an apology.”
Annie looked at the steam rising from her mug.
“I let Brooke translate you to me,” Erin continued.
“When Nathan seemed strained, Brooke would say you were having a hard time. Or that you didn’t like family interference.
Or that you were sensitive about their friendship.
She always sounded sympathetic to you, but somehow I ended every conversation feeling I should be careful around you. ”
Annie stared at her.
“I thought you didn’t like me,” Erin said softly.
The words moved through Annie slowly, finding old bruises.
All those holiday dinners where Erin hugged Brooke first because Brooke arrived early to help with the roast. All those hospital updates Nathan forwarded from Brooke because Brooke had already spoken to his mother.
All those moments Annie had mistaken Erin’s hesitation for judgment and responded with politeness that likely confirmed everything Brooke had implied.
Brooke had not only stood between Annie and Nathan. She had stood between Annie and everyone who might have helped hold the marriage together.
“I didn’t know,” Annie said.
“Neither did I. But I should have wondered why Brooke always had an explanation for everything.” Erin reached across the island, then stopped before touching Annie’s hand. “I am sorry you were made to feel foolish for seeing what was there. I thought you were jealous and insecure for no reason.”
There were apologies, and then there were sentences that found the exact wound. Annie nodded once because words were not readily available.
Erin withdrew her hand. “Nathan told me about Brooke kissing him before the wedding. He told me about the other thing too.”
Annie went still. “He told you?”
“Yes. He said if Brooke contacted me and implied there were secrets, I needed to know the truth from him first. He said he had already harmed you by keeping it hidden and would not repeat that with me.”
Annie absorbed that in silence.
Erin wiped under her eyes with a tissue from her purse.
At least someone had tissues. “I won’t stay long.
I only wanted to tell you I won’t speak to Brooke or Martin.
If they contact me, I’ll send it to Tricia.
I removed Brooke from my care portal with Nathan’s help this morning.
I changed my apartment visitor list too. ”
“Thank you.”
Erin stood, then hesitated near the island. “I am angry at Nathan.”
Annie looked at her.
“I love my son,” Erin said. “I know Brooke manipulated him. But I am angry that he let you carry this alone.”
Annie’s throat tightened despite herself. She did not know what to do with Erin’s anger on her behalf. It was too late to spare her. It mattered anyway.
When Erin left, she hugged Annie at the door. It was tentative at first. Annie could have stepped back. She did not. Erin smelled like vanilla tea and rose hand cream. For years, Brooke had occupied that scent in Annie’s mind. Now it belonged to Erin again, maybe. Or would.
After Erin drove away, Annie stood on the porch until the cold worked through her sweater. Her phone buzzed. A news alert from a local business journal appeared on the screen.
Grisham Meridian Philanthropic Partner Under Review Following Allegations of Misconduct.
Annie’s stomach dropped. She opened the article.
It was brief. Anonymous sources. Questions around governance at the Halpert Family Resilience Fund. Alleged misuse of consulting payments. A spokesperson for the fund denied wrongdoing and characterized the matter as a private dispute involving a Grisham family member.
Annie forwarded it to Tricia. The response came within two minutes.
We are aware. Do not comment. Nathan has issued no statement. This appears to be from Halpert side.
At seven-fifteen, Nathan called.
Annie considered ignoring it. Then she answered. “Did you see the article?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t leak anything.”
“I know.”
The answer came before caution could stop it. It was true. Whatever Nathan had failed at, this did not feel like him. He was quiet for a second before he said, “Thank you.”
“What does Tricia think?”
“That they’re trying to frame it as a messy domestic dispute before the fund connection hardens.”
“And you?”
“I think Brooke is scared.”
Annie leaned against the doorframe. “Good.”
“Yes,” he said, and the word carried no softness.
“Your mother was here,” Annie said.
“My mother?”
“She brought muffins.”
He was silent long enough that Annie knew he was moved. “Was she kind to you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Another silence opened between them. Annie could hear faint traffic on his end, maybe from the hotel window. She looked down at the box of Brooke’s things near the door. “She told me you told her about the kiss.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because Brooke uses hidden things as leverage. I’m trying not to give her any more.”
“She also told me Brooke made her feel careful around me. As if I were fragile and territorial.”
Nathan’s breath caught. “I didn’t know that.”
“I believe you.”
“Nathan.”
“I’m here.”
“Did Brooke do that with anyone else? Your friends? People at work? Donors?”
He did not answer immediately. The silence told her enough. “I don’t know,” he finally said. “But probably.”
“My bad reputation preceded me in rooms before I even entered.”
His voice was low. “Yes.”
Annie looked out at the street. A car slowed near the house, then continued. Her body tensed and relaxed in the space of a breath. “We need to win the rooms back.”
“We?” The word came softly. Carefully.
Annie had not meant to give him hope. Or maybe she had. Not forgiveness. Not return. A task. A shared front where one was required. “For this,” she said. “For the truth.”
“I’m here.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
“She’ll get worse.”
“I know.”
“She’ll hurt you with your old secrets.”
“I know.”
“She’ll hurt me with them too.”
His voice broke slightly. “I know.”
“And you can’t run back to the person who knows where the wounds are just because she presses them.”
“I won’t.”
Annie stared at the box by the door. Brooke’s sweater.
Brooke’s cookbook. Brooke’s framed photograph from a foundation gala where she stood between Annie and Nathan with one hand on his arm.
Beautiful things, all of them. Useful things.
Thoughtful things that had always arrived with strings so fine Annie had mistaken them for silk.
“I want a list,” Annie said. “Everyone Brooke had influence with. Your mother. Friends. Company people. Foundation people. Anyone who might have been hearing her version of me for years.”
“I’ll make it tonight.”
“Send it to Tricia first.”
“Yes.”
“And then to me.”
“Yes.”
She hesitated, then said, “Nathan?”
“I’m here.”
“You should eat.”
The silence changed. He let out a breath that was almost a laugh and almost pain. “You too.”
“I ate Erin’s muffin.”
“Were they good?”
“Very.”
“She stress-bakes.”
“She bought them.”
“She stress-purchases baked goods.”
Despite herself, Annie smiled faintly. “I’m hanging up now.”
After she ended the call, Annie stood in the foyer for several seconds with the phone in her hand. Then she carried Brooke’s box to the porch. She did not know what would happen to the marriage. She did know this: Brooke Halpert’s things were not staying in her house another night.
She sent Tricia a photo of the box and asked for pickup. Then she locked the door.
Upstairs, Annie opened Nathan’s disclosure again. She did not reread the Brooke sections. Not tonight. She went to the final page, the part she had not let herself sit with.
I chose you when I married you. I did it badly, with secrets and cowardice and old attachments I refused to name. I am choosing you differently now by telling the truth even if the truth costs me you.
Annie touched the screen, then closed the laptop.
She slept in her own bed.
At 6 a.m., her phone rang. It was Tricia.
Annie answered before the second ring. “What now?”
“Martin Halpert was arrested thirty minutes ago,” Tricia said.
Annie sat up. “For hiring Reeder?”
“For that, and for obstruction. Reeder says Martin authorized the brick, but Brooke wrote the instructions. They found a draft in Brooke’s cloud backup matching the instruction document. Brooke has not been arrested yet.”
“Yet.”
“Yet,” Tricia said. “But she is cornered. Cornered people make mistakes.”
Annie got out of bed and crossed to the window. A black SUV sat across the street. For one second, she thought it was police. Then the passenger door opened.
Brooke stepped out.
She wore sunglasses despite the pale morning and a camel coat belted tightly at her waist. Her hair was loose around her shoulders. She looked up at Annie’s window as if she knew exactly where Annie would be.
“Annie?” Tricia said.
Annie’s mouth went dry. “Brooke is here.”
“Do not open the door.”
“I won’t.”
“Call 911.”
Brooke crossed the street, heels clicking on pavement. She reached the porch and looked directly into the camera. Then she lifted both hands.
In one hand, she held an envelope.
In the other, Nathan’s wedding ring.
Annie stopped breathing.
“Annie,” Tricia said sharply. “What is happening?”
Brooke smiled into the camera, placed the ring and envelope on the porch mat, and walked away.