Chapter 15 - The Vow He Would Not Ask For
Celeste was arrested 11 days after Josie's surgery.
Not dramatically.
That disappointed the internet.
She did not run through an airport in sunglasses. She did not slap a reporter. She did not collapse in couture on courthouse steps.
She opened the door of her father's house to federal agents and discovered cameras were less flattering when no one controlled the lighting.
Everett lasted 6 more hours before surrendering through attorneys.
The charges were ugly.
Kidnapping conspiracy.
Witness intimidation.
Fraud tied to Amelie Vanderpool's trust.
Tax violations, because wealthy criminals often forgot that the government cared more about hidden money than human cruelty.
Fay gave a statement in a small federal office with Rafferty waiting outside.
Again, he did not enter unless invited.
She told the truth.
Not perfectly.
Her voice shook.
She forgot dates and corrected herself.
At one point, when asked to describe kneeling on the marble, she went silent for nearly a minute.
The female agent across from her waited.
Fay finally said, "She wanted me to feel less human. That was the point."
The agent wrote it down.
Afterward, Fay found Rafferty in the hallway.
"I hated that."
"I know."
"I still did it."
"Yes."
She leaned against the wall.
"Do you always answer in one-syllable verdicts?"
"No."
"That was one."
"Yes."
Despite everything, she smiled.
Rafferty saw it and looked away, as if her smile were too bright to stare at directly.
The weeks that followed brought a strange kind of stability.
Mrs. Odette's catering company flourished under new contracts. Fay's building received repairs for the first time in years because the landlord had suddenly developed respect for code enforcement. Josie's recovery moved slowly but well. She startled at new sounds, cried at feedback, laughed when she heard a spoon strike a bowl from across the room.
Fay began working part-time for Sister Agnes, organizing a food program at Saint Bartholomew's.
Rafferty funded it anonymously.
Fay discovered anyway.
She confronted him in the monastery courtyard beneath a sky heavy with summer rain.
"You promised not to buy my life."
"I funded a kitchen."
"With my name on the planning documents."
"Your name belongs there. You planned it."
"Rafferty."
He stopped.
He liked when she said his name.
That was becoming a problem.
"You can't keep making things easier and pretending that doesn't change the ground under my feet."
"Would you rather I make them harder?"
"I would rather you ask."
That struck him.
He looked toward the old chapel windows.
"I don't know how."
Fay's anger softened unwillingly.
"Then learn."
He nodded once.
"May I fund the kitchen you designed, under a board that you control, with financial oversight from people you choose?"
Fay folded her arms.
"That was annoyingly good."
"I'm adaptable."
"Dangerous men always say that."
"I am trying to become less dangerous to you."
The honesty landed between them.
Rain began to fall.
Neither moved.
Rafferty said, "I will not ask for anything because I helped you."
"Good."
"I will not ask for gratitude."
"Better."
"But one day, if you want dinner with me because you want dinner with me, not because I saved your child or knew you as a boy, I would like that."
Fay looked at him for a long time.
"Ask me after the kitchen opens."
May you like
His eyes warmed.
"I can wait."
