Chapter 10 - My Mother’s Bills
I called Ohio before we even left the pier.
Mom did not answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
“Casey.”
Dominic was beside me.
“Don't.”
“You don't know anything happened.”
“She always answers.”
“It’s after midnight.”
“She sleeps with her phone beside her.”
“Call the nurse.”
I did.
The home-care nurse answered immediately.
“Casey?”
“Where's my mother?”
“She’s asleep.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I checked on her thirty minutes ago.”
“Was anyone there?”
“No.”
“Any calls? Visitors?”
“Casey, what happened?”
I pressed a hand against my forehead.
“Nothing. I just… needed to know.”
Dominic quietly took the phone.
“Ma’am, my name is Dominic Russo. Casey’s mother may require additional privacy for the next few days.”
I glared at him.
He held up one hand.
The nurse asked something.
Dominic answered calmly.
“No immediate danger. We’ll coordinate through Casey.”
He gave the phone back.
“I'm capable of speaking.”
“I know.”
“Then stop taking my phone.”
“You were shaking.”
I looked down.
He was right.
I hated that.
We returned to the hotel.
By two in the morning, Daniel had obtained records from the charitable foundation paying part of Mom’s medical expenses.
I had known about the foundation.
Of course I had.
Every year, hundreds of patients received grants.
Or so I believed.
The name was Harbor Light Medical Assistance Fund.
Daniel found the parent organization.
Margrave Strategic Holdings.
I stared at the screen.
“No.”
Dominic sat beside me.
“How long?”
I checked old emails.
The first grant had arrived five years ago.
When I was twenty-one.
Before graduate school.
After my undergraduate scholarship competition.
“They've been paying part of her treatment.”
“Why?”
My mind moved through possibilities.
To control me?
To keep Mom alive?
To create financial leverage?
Then I remembered Feldman recruiting me.
His assurance that Columbia could supplement my financial aid.
His strange confidence whenever I worried about Mom.
I called him.
He answered.
“You found Harbor Light.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
My throat tightened.
“Was my mother’s treatment part of your plan?”
“No.”
“Don't lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“Then explain.”
Feldman exhaled.
“When I first saw your high-school essay, I investigated the scholarship finalists.”
“That sounds normal to you?”
“No.”
“At least you're learning.”
He ignored the comment.
“I learned about Mary’s kidney disease.”
“And?”
“I arranged the first grant.”
“Through Margrave?”
“Through one of its foundations.”
“Why?”
“Because you nearly declined college.”
I stopped.
That was true.
Mom's health had worsened the summer before freshman year.
I had considered staying home.
“How did you know?”
“Your guidance counselor contacted the scholarship committee.”
“You paid so I would leave.”
“I ensured you had a choice.”
The distinction mattered.
I hated that it mattered.
“Did Sebastian know?”
“Eventually.”
“So my mother became leverage.”
“Yes.”
Anger rose again.
“You don't get credit for helping someone if you secretly make their vulnerability part of your strategy.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, Casey.”
His voice sounded tired.
“I know.”
“Why are you suddenly admitting everything?”
“Because Margrave is collapsing.”
“Not yet.”
“It will.”
“You sound certain.”
“I trained you.”
“Stop saying that.”
A pause.
“Fair.”
I looked toward Dominic.
He sat across from me, silent.
“What does Sebastian want with my mother?”
Feldman answered.
“Nothing, now.”
“How can you know?”
“Because Harbor Light was never his leverage.”
“Then whose?”
“Mine.”
I went still.
Dominic stood.
“What?”
Feldman continued.
“I needed Margrave to believe you mattered to me.”
“You used my mother to convince them?”
“Yes.”
My vision blurred with rage.
“Why?”
“Because if they believed you were my chosen successor, they would watch you.”
“And they did.”
“Yes.”
“You turned my life into bait.”
“I protected your mother.”
“You don't understand the contradiction in those statements?”
“I do.”
“Goodbye, Professor.”
“Casey.”
“What?”
“Sebastian will contact you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he has lost the transfer.”
“And?”
“He will offer you something.”
“What?”
“The truth.”
I hung up.
Dominic had heard enough.
“I’m going to enjoy never trusting an academic again.”
“That's unfair.”
“Your professor engineered a transnational conspiracy through footnotes.”
“Point taken.”
We sat quietly.
Then Dominic asked, “What happens with your mother’s treatment if Harbor Light collapses?”
I hadn't thought that far.
The answer hit me.
“I don't know.”
“How much does the foundation cover?”
“Sometimes twenty or thirty thousand a year.”
“I’ll cover it.”
“No.”
“Casey.”
“No.”
“This is not charity.”
“Then what is it?”
“A debt.”
“I corrected a contract.”
“You stopped someone from taking my entire company.”
“I am not accepting hundreds of thousands of dollars from you.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't want another powerful man deciding my life because he paid a bill.”
The words hung there.
Dominic’s face changed.
He understood.
“Okay.”
No argument.
Just okay.
That mattered more than the offer.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For hearing me.”
He nodded.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
He showed it to me.
CASEY MILLER. TOMORROW. 11 A.M. CENTRAL PARK CONSERVATORY GARDEN. COME ALONE IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH ABOUT MARY’S GRANTS. — S.V.
Sebastian Vale.
Dominic immediately said, “No.”
I looked at him.
“You’ve become predictable.”
“You're not meeting him alone.”
“I’m meeting him.”
“Not alone.”
The next morning, I entered Central Park alone.
Technically.
Dominic and federal agents remained several hundred yards away.
Sebastian Vale sat on a bench beneath bare branches.
He was in his sixties.
Silver hair.
Gray overcoat.
No visible menace.
He looked like a retired ambassador.
“Ms. Miller.”
I remained standing.
“Mr. Vale.”
“You resemble your mother.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“If you mention her again as a threat, this conversation ends.”
He smiled.
“Excellent boundaries.”
“I learned from difficult people.”
“I imagine.”
He gestured toward the bench.
I remained standing.
“What do you want?”
“To offer you Feldman’s position.”
I actually laughed.
“You're serious?”
“Entirely.”
“You've spent years manipulating my life.”
“So has Feldman.”
“That's not a recommendation.”
“Margrave needs reform.”
“Margrave needs sunlight.”
“Naive.”
“Maybe.”
He looked toward the trees.
“Your mother’s grants were approved because I allowed them.”
“Why?”
“To keep you close to Feldman.”
“So you did use her.”
“I funded lifesaving medical care.”
“You bought leverage.”
“Both can be true.”
There it was again.
People are rarely only one thing.
“What do you want from me?”
“Join us.”
“No.”
“You haven't heard the offer.”
“No amount changes the answer.”
“Your mother could receive the best treatment in America.”
My anger sharpened.
“She deserves treatment whether I obey you or not.”
“Deserve is an emotional word.”
“Human beings are emotional.”
“That is why institutions fail.”
“And you think secret businessmen should decide instead?”
“I think competent people should.”
“Convenient that you count yourself.”
Sebastian smiled.
“You are very much Feldman’s student.”
“No.”
I uncapped my fountain pen.
His eyes dropped toward it.
“I’m Mary Miller’s daughter.”
Then I handed him a document.
“What is this?” he asked.
“Notice.”
“Of what?”
“Harbor Light’s patient records are being transferred to an independent medical trust.”
His expression changed.
“You cannot do that.”
“No. But regulators can.”
I smiled.
“And they began this morning.”
For the first time, Sebastian Vale looked truly angry.
“You think you've won.”
“No.”
I capped the pen.
“I think I'm done letting you choose the board.”
Then I walked away.
Behind me, Sebastian called:
“Casey.”
I stopped.
He said, “Ask Dominic what his father really did for Margrave.”
I turned.
But Sebastian was already walking in the opposite direction.
May you like
And once again, the past opened another door we had not known existed.
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