She squeezed my hands.
“You stayed until the ambulance came. You kept me awake. You told me about Sophie and Lucy and the space people in your desk.”
I smiled a little. “You kept asking questions.”
“Because I was afraid that if I stopped talking…” She let the sentence go.
Then she took a breath and looked me in the eye.
“What happened to you after I left in the ambulance?”
I glanced toward Gavin. He was standing in the conference room doorway now. He looked like a man praying I would lie.
“Nothing,” I said.
She studied my face.
“Christopher.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Gavin stepped forward. “Mrs. Halston, perhaps this is a conversation better had privately…”
Mrs. Halston.
The name hit me like cold water.
I looked at her. Then at the folders on the conference table. The logo on the front of every one of them. A simple gray H inside a circle.
HALSTON CAPITAL.
“You’re Eleanor Halston?”
She smiled. “You know the name.”
Everybody knew the name. Eleanor Halston and her late husband, Walter, had started a small industrial supply business in a rented warehouse forty years ago. After Walter died, she turned it into one of the largest private investment firms in the country. She’d been on the cover of Forbes. She spoke at Harvard and Wharton. She owned stakes in companies worth billions of dollars.
I’d seen her face in magazines a hundred times.
I’d never once connected that woman with the one lying in the wet gravel on Route 18.
“I didn’t recognize you.”
“Good.”
I blinked. “Good?”
“That means what you did had nothing to do with who I am.”
Then she turned toward Gavin, and her voice changed.
“Mr. Mercer. Now tell me why he’s carrying a box.”
I looked down. I hadn’t even noticed. Nina had set an empty cardboard file box on my chair, and I’d picked it up without thinking.
Gavin cleared his throat.
“Mrs. Halston, as I tried to explain, there was a business incident this morning.”
“What incident?”
“Christopher missed a critical client presentation.”
“Because he was helping me.”
“Yes, but…”
“But?”
Gavin’s jaw tightened. “We lost a major account.”
Eleanor looked at me. “And?”
I didn’t say anything.
She turned back to Gavin. “And?”
He finally said it.
“I terminated his employment.”
Ethan Blake is a skilled Creative Content Specialist with a talent for crafting engaging and thought-provoking narratives. With a strong background in storytelling and digital content creation, Ethan brings a unique perspective to his role at TheArchivists, where he curates and produces captivating content for a global audience.
Ethan holds a degree in Communications from Zurich University, where he developed his expertise in storytelling, media strategy, and audience engagement. Known for his ability to blend creativity with analytical precision, he excels at creating content that not only entertains but also connects deeply with readers.
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