Chapter 5 - The Woman in the Hallway

Margaret grabbed my arm.

I turned toward the door.

Claire Bennett stood in the hallway.

She was still wearing the cream coat from the photograph. Rage hit me hard.

"Get out."

Claire raised both hands. "I didn't come to fight with you."

"Then you picked a strange coat to wear."

Her mouth tightened.

"Roman knows where you are because this office has an old Carter alarm account. The moment you entered the code, a silent notification went out."

I looked at the keypad. Of course.

"How do you know?"

"Because I helped set up the system."

"How helpful."

Margaret stepped between us before I could get closer.

Claire's eyes dropped to my stomach.

"You need to leave. Roman is ten minutes away."

"Why are you warning me?"

She looked exhausted now, not glamorous. There was mascara under one eye and snow melting in her hair.

"Because the photograph was supposed to reach you."

My skin went cold.

"You sent it?"

"No. I asked someone else to."

I laughed once, without humor. "So you wanted me to see you in my husband's arms. That's your defense?"

"I wanted you to stop signing things he put in front of you."

The room became painfully still.

Claire reached into her purse slowly and placed a flash drive on the desk.

"Roman told the board you had already agreed to assign him your voting proxy for Northstar. He told the lenders the same thing."

"I never agreed."

"I know."

"And what exactly are you to him?"

Claire looked me in the eye.

"Someone who made a bad decision and then realized what kind of man she was helping."

Instead, she pushed the flash drive toward me.

"There are recordings on this. He talks about your shares. Your hospital stay. The proxy papers. He even talks about waiting until after the baby is born because he thinks you'll be too tired to read."

My hand moved to my stomach.

A deep ache tightened across my belly.

I inhaled sharply.

Margaret noticed first.

"Savannah?"

"I'm fine."

Then another cramp rolled through me, stronger than the first.

Claire's face drained of color.

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Outside, tires screeched against the icy curb.

Roman had arrived.