“No,” he said. “You used my name, my foundation, and this club to launder your daughter’s reputation while damaging Madeline’s. I will not be associated with it.”
Patricia lowered her voice.
“You owe me more discretion than this.”
Thomas’s expression changed.
There was history there.
I saw it.
My mother saw that I saw it.
And suddenly, another memory surfaced.
A phone call from years ago. My mother in the kitchen, voice soft and unfamiliar. “Not tonight, Thomas. She’s suspicious.”
I had assumed she meant a business partner.
My father had still been alive then.
I stared at them.
Thomas looked away first.
My mother whispered, “Don’t.”
But Courtney, reckless and cornered, saw the same thing.
Her eyes darted between them.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Mom?”
Patricia’s hand clenched.
“Courtney, be quiet.”
Courtney’s voice rose.
“You and Thomas?”
The room inhaled.
Thomas looked at me, regret etched across his face.
“I am sorry,” he said.
Not to Patricia.
To me.
My mother hissed, “Thomas.”
He ignored her.
“Madeline, your father knew.”
The floor seemed to vanish beneath me.
“My father knew what?”
Thomas swallowed.