My father appeared beside me, holding the elevator door.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded.
As the elevator doors slid shut, Daniel remained standing there, alone beneath the courthouse lights.
Two months later, my company hosted a client dinner at a different venue. Not Aurum House. I had no interest in rooms where men tried to buy importance with someone else’s card.
Grace handled the guest list. Margaret attended as a friend. My father sat at the head of the table, pretending not to enjoy the expensive steak I had ordered for him.
At the end of the night, he raised his glass.
“To clean exits,” he said.
I smiled. “To changed PINs.”
Everyone laughed, but I meant it more deeply than they understood.
