Chapter 7 - WHAT I ACTUALLY DID
The investigation lasted nine months.
I wasn't innocent of everything.
That mattered.
At twenty-nine, hungry for success, I had ignored discrepancies at Northstar.
I signed documents without asking enough questions.
I accepted explanations because asking harder questions threatened the opportunity I desperately wanted.
No prosecutor charged me with Samuel's crimes.
But innocence isn't merely the absence of an indictment.
People were hurt by systems I helped make more efficient.
I testified publicly.
Whitmore Global paid $380 million into a restitution fund.
My board hated it.
I insisted.
Samuel was charged with fraud, obstruction, kidnapping, conspiracy and offenses connected to Professor Lee's death.
Evidence eventually showed Professor Lee had been given medication that interacted fatally with his heart prescription.
Samuel hadn't administered it himself.
He paid someone who did.
Murder had worn a doctor's handwriting.
Samuel was convicted.
I attended one day of the trial.
Only one.
When he saw me, he smiled.
I felt nothing.
That surprised me.
Hatred requires attachment.
Samuel had already taken enough years.
I wasn't giving him more.
Lily returned to university.
Linguistics.
Not business.
Thank God.
She still worked two shifts a week at The Jade Room because she liked the people.
The manager nearly had a nervous breakdown when she returned.
“You're Nathan Whitmore's daughter.”
“Yes.”
“You don't need this job.”
“I like this job.”
He looked at me for help.
I shrugged.
“Don't look at me. She terrifies me.”
Lily smiled.
Mei's kidney disease stabilized after treatment.
And Mei and I?
That was complicated.
Everyone expected us to reunite immediately.
Twenty-five years stolen.
Long-lost lovers.
Perfect ending.
Real life wasn't that obedient.
Mei had built a life without me.
So had I.
She liked San Francisco.
I lived in New York.
She woke at five.
I went to bed at one.
She hated private planes.
I hated commercial boarding lines.
She had dated.
So had I.
Neither of us had married.
But history wasn't a relationship.
So we started with coffee.
Then dinner.
Then arguments.
Many arguments.
One evening she said:
“You're still arrogant.”
“You're still impossible.”
“You like impossible.”
“Apparently.”
She smiled.
I kissed her.
Twenty-five years vanished.
Then returned.
Because a kiss doesn't erase time.
We had to build something new rather than resurrect something dead.
Lily understood before we did.
“You two aren't finishing your old story.”
She said it over dinner.
“You're starting another one.”
I looked at her.
“When did you become wise?”
“Trauma.”
Mei nearly choked on her tea.
I didn't find it funny.
They both did.
Then one afternoon, Lily came into my office carrying a folder.
“I found something.”
I hated those words now.
“What?”
“Professor Lee's final letter.”
“To whom?”
She placed it before me.
“To you.”
My hands trembled as I opened it.
James Lee had written:
Nathan, if this reaches you, remember what I taught you.
Money opens doors.
Respect keeps them open.
But truth tells you which doors should never have been entered.
Then one final line.
If you find Meiying again, do not waste time apologizing for being young. Use whatever time remains to become old together.
I couldn't finish reading aloud.
Mei took my hand.
Lily quietly left the room.
May you like
For once, she knew when not to correct me.
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