“We have business to conclude.”
Celeste opened a folder. “You’ve done more than anyone expected.”
“I know.”
Her eyebrow lifted. Then she took out a check and slid it across the desk.
$100,000.
For a second, I saw Owen’s college, a working car, and six months of rent.
“What do you want me to sign?” I asked.
“I know.”
“A trustee resignation. You were compensated fairly, Sadie. Let’s not rewrite survival as romance.”
I pushed the check back.
Celeste’s smile thinned. “Women like you survive by knowing when to step aside.”
“No,” I said, standing. “Women like me survive by remembering every person who thought we would disappear.”
Her smile vanished.
“Be careful.”
“I was careful for three years,” I said. “Now I’m awake.”
I pushed the check back.
***
The donor luncheon was Celeste’s chance to repair the family name.
It became mine instead.
She stood at the podium in a cream suit while Dean sweated near the front. Jonah and Owen sat in back. When I stood, Jonah started to rise.
