Chapter 3

I stopped those two boxes.

The assistant blocked my way.

"Ms. Sinclair, this was arranged by Mr. Hale."

"Those manuscripts are my personal property."

"Mr. Hale said Celeste is going to talk about the development story at the launch. She needs to understand the process."

I tore off the shipping label and pulled the manuscripts against my chest.

"If she wants to tell a story, let her tell her own."

The assistant tried to stop me again, but Mia came charging out of the elevator and yanked the box straight out of my hands.

"Nora, stop making a scene."

Her motion was too rough. The bottom of the box split open, and hundreds of pages scattered across the floor.

A cup of coffee tipped from the hand of a passing employee. The brown liquid soaked into the earliest calculation drafts.

I crouched down to gather them.

The edges of the pages had stuck together. A gentle touch and they crumbled.

Those were the last set of data my father had worked on with me before he passed away.

He didn't understand programming, so he'd worn his reading glasses and checked every line of numbers with me, jotting derivation notes in the margins in red pen.

Mia saw the handwriting on the pages. Her expression stiffened for a moment.

"They're just a few drafts. There's a backup on the computer."

I looked up at her.

"That's Dad's handwriting."

Her lips moved, then she looked away.

"If Dad were still here, he wouldn't want to see you destroying Adrian's company either."

Joss crouched down to help me pick them up, whispering, "Nora, after the Aurora system launches successfully, Adrian's going to give you a five percent cut. If you cooperate now, everyone comes out ahead."

"You knew all along he was going to give the credit to Celeste, didn't you?"

Her hand stilled.

I pressed further. "Iceland, the itinerary, the project—what else don't I know?"

Mia answered impatiently. "Adrian just owes Celeste an explanation. The reason they broke up back then was because Celeste went on a mountain survey in his place, and that's how she got caught in the avalanche."

"So?"

"So the Aurora system was originally something Adrian was making for her." Mia looked at me. "You just executed his ideas."

Four years of development. More than seven hundred days and nights.

In Mia's mouth, it was reduced to "executed his ideas."

I gathered up the manuscripts that hadn't been soaked and turned to leave.

Adrian's video call rang the assistant's phone.

"Put her on."

The assistant handed me the phone.

It was already deep night behind Adrian. Celeste was leaning against his shoulder, asleep.

He didn't push her away. He just lowered his voice. "Celeste has an interview in the morning. Give her the manuscripts."

"No."

"Nora, stop being unreasonable."

"Adrian, do you have any idea that those pages have my father's handwriting on them?"

He was quiet for a moment.

"I'll have someone restore them."

"Some things can't be restored."

"Then rewrite them." Weariness crept into his voice. "You're a professional engineer. There's no reason to torment a sick woman over a few old pages."

Joss spoke up beside me. "Mr. Hale, the media already knows Celeste is the project's originator. If the manuscripts don't arrive, the interview will fall apart."

Adrian heard her out and said flatly, "Take the manuscripts."

The assistant stepped forward.

I backed into the wall, and the pages in my arms tumbled to the floor again.

Mia seized the moment to grab the box. Joss stood in front of me.

She said in a low voice, "Once the launch is over, I'll get them back for you myself."

"With what?"

Joss looked away.

Through the phone, Adrian made his usual verdicts on everything.

"After the project's done, I'll take you back to the old house for a few days. I'll have your father's study restored the way it was."

"Restored?" I froze. "What happened to the old house?"

Silence spread around me.

Mia's face went white.

I stared at her. "You touched the old house?"

"The company was strapped for cash last year. Adrian took out a second mortgage on it." Her voice grew smaller and smaller. "Just to bridge the gap."

That brownstone was the only inheritance our father had left the two of us sisters.

Ownership: half each.

My signature had never appeared on any mortgage document.

"Whose name is on it?"

Mia gripped the box tightly.

"Nora, Adrian promised to give me a new apartment. I just thought—the old house was sitting empty anyway."

"I'm asking you, who signed?"

She looked up, eyes red.

"I forged your signature. But Adrian said the loan would be paid off the moment the Aurora system succeeded."

Adrian didn't deny it.

He was, in fact, still calm.

"Nora, I'll explain this when I'm back. For now, sign the authorization, or the bank calls in the loan early and we lose the house."

The assistant produced a document at just the right moment.

The last page already had a signature tab stuck on it for me.

I looked at my sister, at my best friend, and at the man on the screen who had once promised to safeguard everything precious to me.

Then I took the pen.

The tension finally left Adrian's brow.

But he didn't see that in the space for authorization duration, I hadn't written permanent.

I'd written twenty-four hours.