The voicemail threat.
Serena’s message tying herself to the paperwork.
Then she ends with one sentence.
My client will not be intimidated into silence by the same conduct that forms the basis of her claims.
I ask her to send it.
She does.
That evening, I finally sleep.
Not peacefully.
I dream of the gala. Nathan keeps dancing while the floor beneath him cracks. Serena spins in red. Everyone claps as the chandelier falls slowly, beautifully, silently.
When I wake, it is dark again.
Ethan is asleep on the couch with his laptop open. Vivian is gone, but she left a note telling me not to answer unknown calls. My phone is full of messages from people who ignored my loneliness for years but suddenly have opinions about my courage.
Then I see one message from Nathan.
No threats.
No insults.
Only four words.
Please meet me alone.
I almost laugh.
Alone is where men like Nathan are most comfortable hurting me. Alone is where voices can be twisted, faces softened, promises made, blame rearranged. Alone is where he spent eleven years teaching me to doubt myself.
I forward the message to Vivian.
Her answer comes immediately.
No. If he wants to talk, office tomorrow. Recorded. Counsel present.
I send that to Nathan.