Chapter 6 - Dinner with the Voss Family
Celia requested a private dinner two days later.
Not with Roman.
With Naen.
The message arrived through Elena, wrapped in concern and careful language.
A misunderstanding. An opportunity to resolve unnecessary distress. A family eager to make things right.
Naen read it twice.
Then she forwarded it to Detective Bell.
“Don’t meet her alone,” Bell said.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
After discussion with her attorney and investigators, Naen agreed to a meeting at a hotel restaurant. Bell’s team would be nearby. Naen would leave if she felt unsafe.
She bought nothing new.
She wore her black dress, repaired the loose seam beneath one arm, and borrowed earrings from Mrs. Alvarez.
“You look like someone who knows where the bodies are buried,” the older woman said.
“I’m trying for someone who can pay her electric bill.”
“Same expression.”
Celia was already seated when Naen arrived.
She rose with a smile so polished it looked rehearsed.
“Naen. You’re even younger than I expected.”
“I’m twenty-six.”
“How exhausting, raising a child alone at your age.”
Naen sat.
“Some days.”
Celia ordered sparkling water without asking whether Naen wanted any.
Then she placed a leather folder on the table.
Inside was a cashier’s check.
One hundred thousand dollars.
Naen stared despite herself.
She pictured rent paid in advance. A reliable car. A bedroom for Leo with walls he could paint blue.
Celia watched her carefully.
“Roman is grateful,” she said.
“Then why isn’t Roman here?”
“He’s recovering. His judgment is understandably emotional.”
“What is the money for?”
“A consulting settlement. Confidentiality. Closure.”
Naen turned the agreement.
The language described her observations as incomplete and potentially mistaken. It required her to withdraw certain allegations and surrender company documents in her possession.
She set it down.
“You want me to say I didn’t see what I saw.”
“I want you to consider your son.”
There it was.
Quiet. Almost tender.
Naen felt the same cold she had felt looking at the photograph beneath her door.
“What do you know about my son?”
“Only that children need stability.”
“Did you send someone to the clinic?”
Celia’s smile didn’t move.
“People notice things, Naen.”
For a moment, Naen could hear nothing except the clink of silverware at the next table.
Then she pushed the folder back.
“I’m leaving.”
Celia’s hand closed over the edge.
“You have debts.”
“Yes.”
“No career.”
“I have experience.”
“You have a powerful man’s temporary attention. Don’t confuse that with a future.”
Naen stood.
“You’ve confused being poor with being available.”
She walked toward the lobby, legs shaking beneath her dress.
Bell met her beside the elevators.
“You okay?”
“No.”
“Can you keep walking?”
“Yes.”
Outside, cold air filled Naen’s lungs.
She bent slightly, hands on her knees, waiting for her stomach to settle.
“I wanted that money,” she admitted.
Bell stood beside her.
“Of course you did.”
“I thought about taking it.”
“You didn’t.”
That evening, Roman called and asked permission to visit the temporary apartment’s common lounge.
Naen agreed, provided Mrs. Alvarez stayed nearby and Leo remained upstairs.
He arrived without flowers.
Instead, he brought the torn apron.
Cleaned. Folded. Sealed in a clear bag after investigators finished examining it.
“The hospital returned it with my belongings,” he said. “I thought you should decide what happens to it.”
Naen ran a finger over the plastic.
“That thing cost me twenty-two dollars.”
“I saw the deduction.”
She laughed once, unwillingly.
Roman sat across from her.
“Elena told me what Celia offered.”
“I nearly took it.”
“You needed it.”
“Would you have?”
He thought before answering.
“At twenty-six? I probably would have taken it and called it practical.”
Naen looked up.
“What changed?”
“I met someone who had less than I did and still made the harder choice.”
She shook her head.
“You can’t build your conscience around me.”
“I’m trying to build it somewhere it won’t collapse when you leave.”
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Roman placed another document on the table.
An authorization allowing his defense attorney to surrender financial records to investigators.
His signature waited at the bottom.
“I signed this before I came.”
May you like
Naen studied the ink.
For the first time, his promise had a cost she could see.
