Chapter 6: Daniel's Play
Marcus set the phone on the table between us.
"Daniel," he said.
"Marcus." Daniel's voice was smooth, unhurried, the voice of a man who had spent years in rooms where the first one to sound worried lost.
"I think we should talk.
Just the two of us, if possible."
"Claire is here," Marcus said.
"She stays."
A beat.
"Of course.
Claire — I want to say again how sorry I am about last night.
What happened to you and your daughter was completely unacceptable."
I said nothing.
"I want to be clear," Daniel continued, "that Lillian and I had no part in what her parents did.
We were upstairs when it happened.
By the time we understood what was going on—"
"You told my security team to get us off the boat," Marcus said.
"Before my parents-in-law touched Claire."
Another beat.
Longer this time.
"I was trying to de-escalate a situation that was becoming disruptive to the event," Daniel said.
"I had no idea it would—"
"You pointed at the dock," I said.
"You said, 'Get them off the boat.' My father said, 'You heard him.' And then they pushed us."
The line was quiet.
"I understand how it looks," Daniel said finally.
"And I take responsibility for my part in the escalation.
That's actually why I'm calling." His tone shifted — warmer, more direct, the version of himself he used when he wanted something.
"The contract review Gerald mentioned last night.
I'd like to discuss a path forward that works for everyone."
"The contracts are under legal review," Marcus said.
"That process will run its course."
"Three contracts, Marcus.
Two hundred and forty employees on my end whose livelihoods depend on those agreements continuing."
"That's a concern you should have had before your wedding guests applauded a woman and a child in the water."
"I didn't applaud—"
"No," Marcus said.
"You just stood there."
The warmth left Daniel's voice.
Not all at once.
Gradually, like a light being turned down.
"I'm trying to find a resolution here," he said.
"I'm trying to do the right thing."
"Then cooperate fully with Gerald's review," Marcus said.
"Answer every question honestly.
Provide every document requested.
If the review concludes the contracts can continue, they will continue."
"And if it concludes they can't?"
"Then they won't."
A long silence.
"Lillian wants to speak with Claire," Daniel said.
"She's been asking since this morning.
She's — she's not doing well."
I looked at the phone.
I thought about Lillian on the deck last night — the veil coming loose, her voice when she said *I knew you'd ruin something*, the way she had looked at Daniel's wrist before she looked at me.
"Tell Lillian she can call me," I said.
"Not through you.
Directly."
"She's worried you won't pick up."
"That's her risk to take."
Another silence.
When Daniel spoke again, the smoothness was mostly gone.
"You know this doesn't have to be a war," he said.
"We're going to be family."
"You're marrying my sister," I said.
"That's not the same thing."
The call ended.
Marcus picked up his phone and dialed Gerald.
I walked back to the window.
A seagull landed on the railing of the Silver Horizon, sat there for a moment, and flew away.
My own phone buzzed on the table.
A message from Lillian.
Just four words.
*Can I call you?*
I stared at it for a long time.
Then I typed back: *Tomorrow.
Not tonight.*
She replied within seconds.
*Okay.
Thank you.*
It was the first time in five years she had thanked me for anything.
I didn't know what to do with it, so I set the phone down and went to sit with Ellie, who had moved on from the tablet and was drawing again — this time on hotel stationery, with a pen she had found on the desk.
"What are you drawing?" I asked.
"Our family," she said.
She had drawn four figures.
Two tall ones, one medium, one small.
She had given the small one a crown.
"Who's the one with the crown?" I asked.
She looked up at me like the answer was obvious.
"Me," she said.
I laughed — a real one, the kind that comes up without warning.
It felt like something breaking loose.
May you like
She smiled and went back to drawing.
And I realized I hadn't laughed like that in five years either.
