Chapter 4 - The People He Thought Belonged to Him
Nathan called me at seven the next morning.
I answered before remembering the plan.
“Emma.”
He sounded exhausted.
Once, that would have been enough.
I would have softened.
Made coffee.
Translated his anxiety into a list I could solve.
Now I stood barefoot in my small kitchen and waited.
“The board has placed me on administrative leave.”
“I heard.”
“You heard?”
“Yes.”
“My access was suspended.”
“I’m not the person who decides that.”
“Your family is.”
“Independent directors and the trustee are reviewing the company’s records.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk like a lawyer.”
I watched a flower-shop employee carry buckets onto the sidewalk below.
“I’m trying to be accurate.”
A long silence.
Then Nathan lowered his voice.
“Come home. We can fix this.”
“What happened to disappearing?”
“I was angry.”
“You scheduled a meeting.”
“Emma.”
“You printed agreements. You invited Madison. You arranged witnesses. That wasn’t a bad sentence said during an argument.”
His breathing changed.
“I made mistakes.”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to punish me forever?”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
My pain, already converted into his sentence.
“You need to speak with your attorney.”
I ended the call.
Then I blocked his direct number temporarily, leaving the agreed channels open.
It felt dramatic.
It also made the kitchen quieter.
At CloudAxis, the review expanded.
I learned details through Leona only when relevant to my records.
Arthur refused to feed me company information as a substitute for emotional comfort.
At first, that frustrated me.
Then I understood the respect inside it.
He would not make me responsible for deciding whose job survived Nathan’s behavior.
One person did contact me directly.
Rosa Delgado.
CloudAxis’s former people-operations manager.
The woman Nathan had dismissed during chemotherapy.
I had visited her once after her treatment, bringing soup and pretending I did not understand why she no longer came to company events.
Now her email was brief.
I’m sorry about what I’ve heard. If anyone is reviewing expense approvals, there are records they should request.
I forwarded it to Leona with Rosa’s permission.
Then I called her.
“How are you?”
A pause.
“Better than I was.”
“I should have called sooner.”
“Probably.”
The answer hurt.
It was also fair.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
We spoke for twenty minutes.
Not about revenge.
About treatment.
Insurance.
Her daughter’s college applications.
Afterward, I sat with an uncomfortable truth.
Loving Nathan had taught me to excuse things I would have recognized immediately in a stranger.
His treatment of Rosa had frightened me.
I called it pressure.
His contempt for junior employees embarrassed me.
I called it intensity.
Now I was learning what those translations had cost other people.
I could not repair that by discovering I was wealthy.
I could begin by refusing to translate for him again.
That afternoon, Helen Cho requested a meeting.
Not as a favor.
As a witness interview concerning expenses submitted in my name.
Leona attended.
I answered questions.
I identified real purchases, unfamiliar vendors, and signatures that were not mine.
When I did not know, I said so.
Helen thanked me.
At the door, I hesitated.
“How are the employees?”
Her expression softened.
“Worried. We’re holding an all-staff meeting tomorrow.”
“Will payroll continue?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She looked at me carefully.
“Your grandfather asked that question first too.”
For reasons I could not explain, that nearly made me cry.
That night, Arthur arrived with takeout.
No reports.
No strategy.
Just noodles in cardboard boxes and a bag of dog treats.
We ate at the little table while Pip supervised.
Finally, I asked, “Can I love someone and still admit I helped them get away with things?”
Arthur set down his chopsticks.
“Yes.”
“What do I do with that?”
“Tell the truth about it. Then behave differently.”
May you like
I looked at the notebook beside my plate.
Tomorrow, I decided, I would start.
