Chapter 6: What Julian Said When He Finally Came
She was thirty-one hours old when Julian arrived at the hospital.
I had named her Clara.
It had been my grandmother's name.
No one in the Sterling family had been consulted.
Clara was in the NICU, improving steadily.
Her lungs were the primary concern, but Dr.
Ellison had used the word encouraging twice in the same sentence that morning, and I had held onto that word like a handhold on a steep wall.
I was in the chair beside the incubator when the nurse told me I had a visitor.
"He says he's the father."
"He is."
"Do you want to see him?"
I looked at Clara.
Her eyes were closed.
Her chest rose and fell with a rhythm that the monitors confirmed was exactly what it should be.
"Send him in," I said.
Julian came through the door looking like a man who had not slept.
His jacket was gone.
His shirt was the same one from the wedding, though someone had removed the boutonniere.
There was a small crease across his left cheek from what might have been a car seat or a waiting room chair.
He stopped when he saw Clara.
He stood very still for a long moment.
"She's small," he said.
"She's five pounds and two ounces.
The doctor says she's doing well."
He moved closer.
He looked at her through the incubator with an expression I had not seen on his face in a long time.
Something unguarded.
Something that had nothing to do with his family or their expectations or what anyone in the room might think.
Then he looked at me.
"Audrey."
"Julian."
"I'm sorry."
I had imagined this moment many times during the night.
I had imagined what I would say.
I had imagined being cold, or precise, or devastatingly calm.
Instead I just looked at him.
"Which part?" I asked.
He sat down in the chair across from me.
He put his hands on his knees.
"The bathroom," he said.
"I should have opened the door.
I should have called the ambulance the moment you told me.
I should have—"
"Yes," I said.
"You should have."
He stopped.
"Is that all you're sorry for?" I asked.
His jaw moved.
"No."
"The signatures, Julian."
"I know."
"Every transfer.
Every shell company.
Every invoice for a service that was never performed and a vendor that didn't exist."
"I know what I signed."
"Then tell me you knew what you were signing when you signed it."
He looked at the floor.
That was the answer.
"Your mother told you it was standard estate management," I said.
"Clifford Hale told you it was how wealthy families structured their assets.
And you signed because it was easier than asking questions."
"Audrey—"
"You signed because asking questions would have meant looking at something you didn't want to see."
"Yes." His voice was very quiet.
"Yes.
That's what I did."
Clara shifted inside the incubator.
A small movement, one hand opening and closing.
We both watched it.
"I didn't know about you," Julian said.
"When we met.
I didn't know who you were or where you worked.
I need you to know that."
"Diana's team is looking at it."
"I know.
I told them the same thing.
I told them everything." He looked up.
"I've been talking to them since two in the morning.
I asked for a lawyer and then I told the lawyer I wanted to cooperate."
I studied his face.
"Why?"
He looked at Clara.
"Because she exists," he said.
"And because whatever I am, I don't want to be the reason she grows up ashamed of her father."
I didn't say anything.
"I know that doesn't fix it," he said.
"I'm not asking you to forgive me.
I'm not asking for anything.
I just need you to know that I'm not going to fight this.
I'm not going to protect them."
"Your mother."
"Yes."
"Seraphina."
"Yes."
"Clifford Hale."
Something crossed his face.
"You know about Clifford."
"I flagged his name nine months ago.
I didn't understand the full picture until last night."
Julian pressed his hands together.
"He built it," Julian said.
"The whole structure.
My mother thought she was in control of it.
She wasn't.
Clifford was.
He's been skimming from the skimmers for eleven years and nobody in my family noticed because they were too busy believing they were the smartest people in the room."
I went very still.
"How much?"
"I don't know exactly.
But the accounts Clifford controls directly — the ones that aren't in the warrant yet—" Julian stopped.
"I gave Diana the account numbers this morning.
All of them."
Outside the NICU window, a nurse passed in the corridor without looking in.
"Julian," I said carefully.
"If Clifford finds out you gave those numbers—"
"He already knows." Julian's voice was flat.
"His son called him at six this morning.
Richard.
Before we got to Richard's phone."
My chest tightened.
"What did Richard tell him?"
"That the warrant had been executed.
That my name was on the cooperation agreement." Julian met my eyes.
"Clifford left his house on the estate at six forty-five.
They don't know where he is."
May you like
The monitor beside Clara beeped once, steadily, reassuringly.
I reached for my phone.
