Chapter 10: What Callum Wanted to Say
They met in a conference room at Grace's office on a grey Tuesday morning.
Nora had not seen Callum since the ballroom.
She had thought about this moment — had tried to decide in advance how she would feel, what she would show, whether she would be able to sit across from him without the three years rising up through her chest like water.
She sat down across from him and felt almost nothing.
Not peace.
Not numbness.
Something more specific than either — the particular clarity of a person who has already finished grieving something and is now simply present for the final accounting.
Callum looked older.
Not dramatically.
But the smoothness was gone from around his eyes, and he held himself differently — less like a man occupying a room and more like a man being contained by one.
Forsythe sat beside him.
Grace sat beside Nora.
Her father had wanted to come.
Nora had asked him not to.
"This is informal," Forsythe said.
"Nothing said here is on the record unless both parties agree."
"Understood," Grace said.
Callum looked at Nora.
"I want to explain," he said.
"You don't need to explain anything to me," Nora said.
"I already know what you did."
"I want to explain why."
"I know why too."
He was quiet for a moment.
Then: "You were going to leave."
"Yes."
"And take the child."
"She's my child, Callum."
"I know that." Something moved across his face.
"I know that now.
I knew it then too, if I'm honest.
I just—" He stopped.
"My father told me that a Hargrove doesn't lose.
That whatever it takes, you don't let someone walk away from this family with something that belongs to it." He looked at the table.
"He meant the child.
He meant the assets.
He meant the — the narrative.
The idea that someone could leave and be fine." His jaw tightened.
"I let him tell me what to do.
I let him make it into a strategy.
And I—" He stopped again.
"You went along with it," Nora said.
"Yes."
"You didn't just go along with it.
You participated.
You made the calls.
You chose the judge.
You stood in that ballroom and raised your arm."
"Yes."
"So what is it you want from me?" Nora asked.
"What is the purpose of this conversation?"
Callum looked at her directly for the first time.
"I want to tell you that I know what I did," he said.
"Not for the case.
Not for Forsythe.
I want to tell you because you're the only person in this entire situation who deserves to hear it said out loud by me."
The room was very quiet.
"I hear you," Nora said.
"It doesn't change anything."
"I know."
"Eleanor will know who her father is.
Not what you told me to tell her.
What actually happened."
Callum's throat moved.
"I know," he said again.
Grace leaned forward.
"Mr.
Hargrove.
Your attorney indicated you wanted to discuss the possibility of a cooperation agreement."
Forsythe opened a folder.
What followed was two hours of careful, specific negotiation that Nora listened to without speaking.
Callum offered testimony against Reginald Hargrove, against Whitmore, and against Judge Fenn's initial recruitment.
In exchange, Forsythe sought a reduction on three of the five charges and a sentencing recommendation.
Grace gave nothing away.
She asked questions.
She took notes.
She said she would respond in writing within forty-eight hours.
At the end, as they stood to leave, Callum looked at Nora one last time.
"Is she healthy?" he asked.
"The baby."
"Her name is Eleanor," Nora said.
"And yes.
She's perfect."
He nodded.
He didn't say anything else.
He walked out with Forsythe, and the door closed, and Nora stood in the empty conference room with Grace and felt the last of something leave her — not love, that had been gone for a long time — but the last of the fear that had lived in the space where love used to be.
"Well," Grace said.
"Well," Nora said.
"His testimony, if he follows through, significantly strengthens the case against Reginald and Whitmore."
"I know."
"It also means a reduced sentence for Callum."
"I know that too." Nora picked up her jacket.
"Use it.
Use everything.
I want Reginald.
I want Whitmore.
I want the people who built the system, not just the person they handed it to."
Grace looked at her with the particular expression she sometimes wore — not quite admiration, not quite surprise, but something that suggested Nora continued to be slightly more than she had initially calculated.
May you like
"All right," Grace said.
"Then that's what we'll do."
