4: 4
Harper was still slumped in the bed, and the moment she heard the word "police," a flicker of panic crossed her face.
She stole a glance at Peter.
Peter looked at the shareholders, then at me, disapproval all over his face.
"Ms. Harrington, you can't do this. Blowing it up serves no one. It won't do the company any good at all!"
"The only way to salvage our reputation right now is to take responsibility!"
That, of course, was exactly what the shareholders feared most.
A few of them closed in around me. "Mary, don't be rash!"
"Your father did something like this. The law won't be on his side!"
"If he ends up in prison and the story spreads, the whole company is finished..."
In my last life, this was exactly the moment Harper seized.
Every shareholder leaned on our family, telling us to think of the company, to think of all the employees.
To think of the workers who'd lose their jobs over one family scandal.
The reasons sounded noble. Sparing everyone.
But in the end, the guilty took everything, and who was left to spare us?
The lawyer said the fastest the process could move was forty minutes. The island was too far out.
The crying inside the room never stopped.
Harper sniffled and sobbed, dropping her poison in broken pieces, each line more vicious than the last.
She said my father had started pursuing her last fall.
Said he'd rented her a place off campus, said every time they met he told her not to tell a soul.
Every sentence landed dead center on the trope: powerful man luring a poor girl.
The shareholders lost it.
"Clifford, you owe everyone an explanation today!"
"The company isn't yours alone. Your personal conduct blows up, and the stock hits its floor tomorrow!"
The others chimed in, each voice louder than the one before.
Someone had already pulled out a phone and was making a call, probably to the PR team.
Someone said flatly, "Take Clifford off the chairman's seat first, or there's no way to face the investors."
My father stood in the corner.
He kept repeating the same few words.
"I didn't touch her... I didn't touch..."
My mother came running back from the exam room.
She demanded my father give her an answer.
Harper's tears started falling again.
"Ma'am, you're getting older. The one who isn't loved is the real mistress..."
"He said your mind was unwell, said you couldn't keep him in line..."
My mother shook all over with rage, her tears striking the back of my hand.
In my last life, this was exactly how my father's "betrayal" pushed her to the breaking point.
Job's camera caught every face in the room.
He spoke into the lens. "You can see the situation here is extremely complicated. The victim is highly emotional, and the Harrington family has yet to give any clear response..."
I looked at Harper.
"Harper, you say you've been seeing my father for more than half a year."
"Then tell me. Which of his legs has a scar on it?"
Harper froze.
The words wouldn't come. Her lips parted, and the tears turned unnatural.
My father's head snapped up toward me.
He understood what I was doing. I was forcing her to slip.
My father had no scar at all.
Harper just cried harder.
"Mary, what's the point of asking this now?"
"I've already lost the baby in my belly... and you're still interrogating me like this..."
Peter jumped in.
"Ms. Harrington, Harper just miscarried. She's weak. Don't push her like this."
"After all, that would've been your little brother or sister..."
The shareholders stirred again. Someone shouted, "That's right, she's in this state and you're still interrogating her!"
"Cold-blooded!"
"No wonder Clifford went looking elsewhere. His own family has no heart. At a time like this, and they're still on about this!"
It was the same in my last life.
That feeling of being surrounded by everyone, of one word of defense being swallowed whole.
I answered.
"You can't say it, can you? Then it's my turn to talk."
Just then, my lawyer arrived with officers in uniform.
"Everyone, please stop the shouting. From this moment on, this proceeds under the protection of the law..."
The time had come.
I took my father's hand.
His palm was cold with sweat.
Harper was still crying. The shareholders were still arguing.
Every trap of this life, I'd laid ahead of time, waiting for them to jump in on their own.
I nodded to the lawyer and the others.
"I have something to say now."
