3: 3
I ran straight over.
Seven or eight people had already gathered in the hallway.
A few of the shareholders who'd stayed over after the birthday party stood in the doorway in their pajamas.
Job Chavez had his camera trained on the door at the far end of the hall.
Harper was crying.
"I don't blame you, Mr. Harrington..."
"You couldn't help yourself either..."
Harper sat on the edge of the bed, the blanket pulled up to her chest, her shoulders bare, dark purple choke marks running from her neck down to her collarbone.
There was blood on the sheets. Dark red, soaked through in a wide stain.
My father had clearly just woken up. He stared at the tangled bedding, his pajama top still unbuttoned.
"Why are you in here?"
Harper's face was streaming with tears.
"This child... it's yours, Mr. Harrington!"
"Last year, when you called me out to see you, that's when I got pregnant."
"I never dared say anything... and now it's gone... all of it, gone..."
The room erupted.
The shareholders crowding the doorway went livid, seething.
"Clifford! You're over fifty, what kind of thing is this to do!"
"You sponsored a young girl and sponsored her right into your bed?"
My father's voice went hoarse.
"I didn't! Take her out where? There's nothing to it!"
"I've never once been alone with her!"
"How can you deny it?"
Harper wept in ragged little gasps.
"You said so many sweet things to me."
"You said your wife was too old, no fun anymore, said Marilyn would marry off sooner or later and couldn't be counted on..."
"You said you wanted me to give you a son. Have you forgotten all of it?"
Job's lens pushed in steadily, fixed on my father's face.
Peter sighed.
"Chairman Harrington, you have to give an answer now. If this blows up, it's bad for everyone."
"An answer?"
My mother's voice came from behind me.
She stared at my father, her eyes rimmed red.
"Clifford, is what she's saying true?"
"I didn't!"
My father's eyes went red too.
"You have to believe me, I never touched her!"
"Then whose child is it in her belly?"
"I don't know!"
"Then where were you last night?"
My father said, loudly,
"I couldn't find my blood sugar medication, so I came out to look for it, and after that I don't know anything."
Harper was still sobbing on the bed. The blanket slipped down a little, showing more of the choke marks.
She shot me a glance, and the corner of her mouth flicked up for an instant before she pressed it back down.
I knew that look too well.
In my last life, after she'd won, she came to my home to gloat.
"Right up to the day he died, not one person believed your father. Tsk, tsk, how pitiful."
Fine. Then I'll teach you what it means: don't court death, and you won't die.
What happened last time, I will absolutely not let play out again the way you want it to.
I stepped forward and blocked the lens.
"You want an answer."
"You'll get one right now."
I looked at Harper.
"Just say it plainly. What do you want?"
Harper lifted her eyes to me.
"Sister, my family is poor, yes. But a poor person's heart is a true heart too!"
Several of the shareholders wore looks of pity.
"Well said, girl!"
"That's right, being poor doesn't mean you can be pushed around!"
Harper went on.
"I'm still young. All I know is that when someone does a thing, they have to take responsibility for it."
"Mr. Harrington and I were sincere with each other!"
"This child is lost, but I'll give Mr. Harrington another one!"
"He has no son. He shouldn't have to live with that regret his whole life."
"But a child is innocent. I don't want a title for myself, but the future child has to have one. You can't just let it be born a bastard."
The shareholders started murmuring.
"That's true, if you did it, you have to take responsibility!"
Harper looked through her tears straight at Job's recording setup.
"You can't take advantage of me just because I've got no one to lean on."
That phrase, "no one to lean on," stirred everyone's feelings up at once.
My mother swayed, nearly fainting.
I caught her and had someone take her to the treatment room first.
Then I turned back to Harper.
"You say my father took you out alone?"
"Where did you go, who paid."
"Spell it all out, one thing at a time."
"Spell it out clearly, and I'll set things right for you."
Harper's lips moved.
Peter panicked.
"Ms. Harrington, now isn't the time for this. Calm Harper down first..."
"Otherwise it blows up, she sues, your father goes to prison, the company implodes, and we're all finished!"
Hearing that, the shareholders tensed up too. "Exactly!"
"The company's image is what matters. Do you have any idea how much a scandal hurts business?"
"Morgan Walker, over at that rival firm, got sued over exactly this kind of thing."
"Did time, watched his image collapse, went bankrupt."
"It's all on camera now. Do you want that to happen to our company?"
The moment Harper heard the word "sue," a smug look crossed her face.
She was betting we wouldn't dare take this in front of the public.
"Shut up."
I kept my eyes only on Harper.
"Sue, is it? You want an answer, you want a title."
"Then let's get to the bottom of it, whose fetus you miscarried, and what actually happened last night."
I gave my phone a little shake.
"My lawyer has already called the police. They're on their way."
This time, I'll see it through to the end.
