Chapter 7 - The Daughter He Tried to Trade Twice
I did not return to the mansion.
Rachel helped arrange a temporary place to stay with security I approved and clear instructions about who could access it.
June came with me for the first night, carrying a casserole and a baseball bat she claimed was decorative.
“You don’t play baseball,” I said.
“That’s why it still looks new.”
I laughed.
Then I cried into her shoulder because laughter had loosened something I couldn’t hold together anymore.
The bakery closed for two days while the locks and cameras were checked.
Customers brought flowers.
The irony nearly finished me.
Mrs. Alvarez from the bookstore next door organized a meal schedule before remembering I owned a commercial kitchen.
“Then people can stop by and be annoying,” she said. “Community matters.”
For years, my father had made me feel as though survival depended on keeping his approval.
Now people who owed me nothing were rearranging their afternoons so I wouldn’t have to reopen alone.
On Thursday, Thomas called from an unfamiliar number.
I answered because I thought it was a supplier.
“Audrey. Don’t hang up.”
I stepped into the office and signaled June.
She quietly reached for her phone.
“What do you want?”
“To keep you alive.”
The words chilled me.
“Is that a threat?”
“No. Listen to me. Nolan is not handling this well.”
“Then speak to your attorney.”
“You don’t understand. He thinks Rowe has copies of everything.”
I said nothing.
My father’s breathing sounded loud through the receiver.
“He thinks you found something at the bakery.”
“Did you send someone into my shop?”
“No.”
“Did Nolan?”
A pause.
That was enough.
“Dad.”
“You need to tell him where the records are.”
“So that’s why you called.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
I closed my eyes.
“You keep using that word.”
His voice rose.
“Do you think Asher Rowe is going to save you? Men like him don’t change because somebody bakes them bread.”
The cruelty landed.
It still knew where to go.
But it did not stay.
“No,” I said. “He has to change because he decides to. That’s his responsibility.”
“Audrey—”
“And you have to answer for what you did.”
“You’d choose him over your own father?”
I looked through the office window.
June stood beside the counter with the phone to her ear, calm and steady.
“I’m choosing myself.”
I ended the call.
The recording June had helped preserve, along with my statement, went to the investigators.
That evening, Asher met me at Rachel’s office.
Miriam came too.
There were no flowers.
No expensive apologies.
Just documents.
He was providing records related to his own conduct as well as Nolan’s. His attorneys were working with investigators, but there were no promises that cooperation would erase what he had done.
He wanted me to know before I heard it elsewhere.
I read until the words blurred.
“You should have done this before.”
“Yes.”
“Before me.”
“Yes.”
I looked up.
“Why now?”
He considered the question instead of reaching for the easiest answer.
“Because I kept waiting to become a different man without surrendering anything that made me this one.”
I sat very still.
“I can’t ask you to trust me while I hide the cost.”
After the meeting, we stood in the parking lot beneath cold lights.
“I’m seeing someone,” he said.
My stomach dropped before he added, “A therapist.”
I let out a startled breath.
“That sentence needs a better introduction.”
For the first time in days, he smiled.
“It does.”
“Do you like them?”
“I find the questions inconvenient.”
“That sounds promising.”
He nodded.
Then his expression became serious.
“I’m not telling you so you’ll come back.”
“Good.”
“I’m telling you because you asked whether I’d let anyone help.”
I looked at the man standing in front of me.
Not cured.
Not forgiven.
Trying, with no guarantee that effort would bring him what he wanted.
I stepped closer.
“May I hug you?”
His face changed.
“Yes.”
He held me carefully, mindful of his healing shoulder.
For one quiet minute, the parking lot disappeared.
Then Ethan’s phone rang behind us.
He listened.
His expression hardened.
When he lowered the phone, he looked at Asher.
“Nolan’s missing.”
A second call came before any of us could speak.
May you like
This one was mine.
The bakery alarm company.
