Chapter 4: What Daniel Already Knew
He came back in on the twelfth minute.
He didn't sit down.
He stood at the edge of the table, one hand resting on the back of his chair, and looked at me in a way that felt like he was measuring something.
"Can we go somewhere and talk?" he said.
"Just us."
My mom squeezed my hand once and let go.
We went to the small bar area near the restaurant entrance.
It was quieter there.
A couple at the far end.
A bartender who wasn't paying attention.
Daniel sat across from me and put the folded paper on the table between us.
"I need to ask you something, and I need you to answer me honestly."
"Okay," I said.
"Did you know about this before tonight?"
"No.
My mom told me in the restroom.
That was the first I'd heard any of it."
He looked at me for a moment.
Then he nodded.
"All right," he said.
"Daniel — "
"I need to tell you something." He pressed his fingers flat against the table.
"I've known something was wrong for about eight months."
I stared at him.
"Not the details.
Not — this." He touched the edge of the paper.
"But I knew my father's business had problems.
He asked me to sign something last spring.
A transfer of assets.
He said it was routine restructuring." He paused.
"I didn't sign it."
"Why not?"
"Because he couldn't explain it to me in plain language.
And my father can explain anything in plain language when he wants to." He looked down.
"I hired someone to look into it quietly.
A financial consultant.
She gave me a preliminary report six weeks ago."
"What did it say?"
"That there were irregularities going back at least five years.
Investor funds that moved in ways that didn't match the stated returns." He stopped.
"I didn't know the full scope.
I still don't.
But I knew enough to be worried."
I sat back in my chair.
"You were already investigating your own father."
"I was trying to understand what I was walking into." He looked up.
"What we were walking into.
I didn't tell you because I didn't have anything solid enough.
I didn't want to put that on you without — "
"Daniel." My voice came out harder than I intended.
"We were three weeks from setting a wedding date."
"I know."
"That's not something you carry alone."
"I know that too." He didn't look away.
"I was wrong not to tell you.
I'm telling you now."
I looked at the paper between us.
His father's name at the top.
The date.
The signatures.
"What does this document actually show?" I said.
"I don't know yet.
I need to get it to my consultant tonight." He picked it up.
"Can I keep this?"
"It's a copy," I said.
"My mom has the original."
Something shifted in his expression.
A small thing.
Respect, maybe.
"Your mom," he said slowly.
"She came tonight dressed like that on purpose.
So my mother would underestimate her."
"Yes."
He was quiet for a moment.
"She protected you."
"She's been protecting me my whole life."
He folded the paper back into his jacket.
His jaw was tight.
"I'm going to call my consultant now.
And then I'm going to call a lawyer." He stood up.
"I don't know what my father has done.
But if it's what this looks like, I'm not going to pretend I don't know."
"What does that mean for us?" I said.
He looked at me.
The question sat between us, unanswered.
"I don't know yet," he said.
"But I'm not walking away from you over something my father did.
That much I know."
He left to make his call.
I went back to the table.
My mom was still there, her tea half-finished, her hands folded in her lap.
"Well?" she said.
"He already knew something was wrong.
He'd been investigating for months."
She didn't look surprised.
"Good," she said simply.
"Good?"
"A man who ignores the truth when it's inconvenient is one kind of problem." She picked up her cup.
"A man who goes looking for it even when it costs him something — that's a different kind of man entirely."
I looked toward the entrance where Daniel had disappeared.
"He still might not come back from this."
"He might not," she agreed.
"But that won't be because of you."
My phone buzzed on the table.
A text from a number I didn't recognize.
*You should ask your mother how she really found that document.
And who helped her get it.*
I turned the phone so my mom could read it.
Her expression didn't change.
But she set her cup down very carefully.
"Who sent that?" I said.
May you like
She looked toward the restaurant entrance.
"Someone who knows we're here," she said.
