Chapter 15 - Nathan’s OfferNathan requested to see me two days later.
My lawyer said no.
Detective Harris said absolutely not.
Julia said, “I’ll break his face before I let him breathe near you.”
But I said yes.
Not because I wanted closure.
Closure is a word people use when they want pain to behave.
I wanted to look at Nathan and see whether anything human remained.
The meeting happened through thick glass at the county detention center. Nathan wore an orange jumpsuit like an insult to his own vanity. His hair was still perfect. Somehow, that made me hate him more.
He smiled when I sat down.
“There’s my wife.”
I picked up the phone.
“Don’t call me that.”
His smile thinned.
“You look tired.”
“You look caged.”
For the first time, his expression cracked.
Only for a second.
Then he leaned closer.
“Claire, people are filling your head with lies.”
I laughed softly.
“You hired a man to kill me.”
“No,” he said. “I hired a man to retrieve stolen documents.”
“And scare my daughter?”
“Our daughter.”
“My daughter.”
His eyes hardened.
There he was.
The real Nathan.
“You always were suggestible,” he said. “Your sister gets near you for one day and suddenly you rewrite your whole life.”
“You drugged me.”
“I medicated you.”
“You erased me.”
“I protected you from your own instability.”
I stared at him through the glass and wondered how many years I had spent thanking this man for chains.
Nathan lowered his voice.
“You think Michael loved you? He pitied you. He pitied both of us. Always playing hero.”
“Did you kill him?”
Nathan smiled.
Not a confession.
Worse.
An enjoyment of the question.
“Motorcycles are dangerous.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“What do you want?”
“A deal.”
“You’re not in a position to offer one.”
“I know where Miriam’s real files are.”
I went still.
Nathan noticed.
Of course he did.
He had spent years studying the smallest changes in my face so he could use them.
“The files in storage were insurance,” he said. “Not the real archive. Miriam kept enough to destroy everyone.”
“Why tell me?”
“Because if those people think you have Michael’s drive, they’ll come for you.”
“They already have.”
“No,” Nathan said softly. “That was a warning. You haven’t seen what coming for you looks like.”
My blood chilled.
He leaned closer.
“Get me transferred. Protective custody. A better lawyer. Then I’ll give you the location.”
I looked at him for a long time.
Then I smiled.
His eyes flickered.
“You don’t have the files,” I said.
He blinked once.
There.
The answer.
Nathan did not know where Miriam’s archive was.
He only knew it existed.
I stood.
His hand hit the glass.
“Claire.”
I put the phone back to my ear.
He whispered, “If I go down, Ava goes down with me.”
I leaned close.
“No,” I said. “That was the old story.”
Then I hung up.
As I turned to leave, Nathan shouted through the glass.
“You think Michael was a saint? Ask Julia what she did the night he died!”
May you like
I stopped.
Julia, waiting outside the room, went white.
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