Masuk"Hey, watch your steps. Have you suddenly gone blind?” Fabiola yelled at Jenny for hitting him accidentally after she dashed out of Alvin's office angrily.
"Speak of the ruthless devil. Bullshit,” Jenny hissed angrily and motioned for her duty post before Fabiola could counter her words. "What the fuck is wrong with her? Did I do anything to upset her?” Fabiola asked rhetorically and pondered why she acted like that. Judging from her shitty attitude, he could discern that something was eating her up. These two weren't on talking terms. Jenny doesn't even find Fabiola fascinating as a person or as the managing director of Royal Gold Mine, but she hasn't for one moment spoken to him rudely aside now. "Her attitude speaks volumes. But whatever it is, I'm ready to go ask Dad,” Fabiola muttered and walked inside his father's office. "You should respect my privacy. You don't just break into people's offices as you wish. This is a reputable organization. Show some courtesy,” he scolded Fabiola for breaking in. "Easy on me, Dad. I meant no harm. I just had a nasty encounter with Jenny outside the office. She looked tense and angry. Something is eating her up, and I bet you know about it.” Fabiola sat down and popped the question. "And why would I know anything about it? You had the opportunity to ask her, but you goofed. I thought you'd never show up. What changed?” he ignored the question, but Fabiola wasn't ready to back out either. "I see what you did there. Stop running away from the question, Dad. A little explanation would do. Did you do anything to upset her? I haven't seen her that angry before. I bet you did something to trigger that provocation.” Fabiola kept pushing for an answer. "Okay, fine. I'll spill it already.” He bowed to pressure and explained about the stolen check. "Okay? I got the picture! She came begging you to drop all charges against her mother, and you refused, hence her anger? It wasn't your fault her mother stole from us. She deserves to be punished to set an example for those opportunists out there,” Fabiola supported his father's actions. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but there's a twist. I intend to drop all the charges against her mother. For some reason, though,” he unleashed the bombshell that left Fabiola astounded. "What reason could that be? Please come off it. This isn't you talking. When did you become this Nice? We both know this is a prank. I mean, her mother can't escape prosecution. A few years behind bars would help reset her head.” Fabiola laughed mischievously and doubted his father. Alvin Alejandro is known for one thing, except for forgiveness. He barely forgives, irrespective of the victim involved. Now, hearing his father speak about granting a pardon to a stranger who stole such an outrageous amount is what Fabiola doesn't seem to comprehend. “I need an explanation, Dad. You're making me nuts. Why would she be granted a pardon? Are you having a secret affair with her?” "What an insult! This is a slap on my face. Why would you even think of such? Come on, son. I can't stoop so low to have a relationship with a peasant. For your information, I've got no intention of having a relationship or getting married again. I demand an apology for that false accusation. You should know me better than the rubbish you just spew,” he slammed his desk in anger. Ever since he lost his wife, he has never considered getting another wife, let alone having a secret affair with one of his staff. "Apologies, Dad. Sorry, I said that. I just feel there's more to this. I know you too well. You just don't become so good and benevolent in one day. So I insist, why did you decide to drop all charges?” "I know this may sound so ridiculous, but you just need to know. She's gonna marry you for three years. Then she can file for divorce afterward…" "Wait, wait, hold on a sec.” Fabiola made an upraised hand to interrupt his father. "But I'm not done yet,” he protested. "What else do I need to hear? Just like you said, this is absurd. I can't even marry that godforsaken leper called Jenny for a second. I would rather become a priest than get married to her. If she was the only girl remaining in the world, I would rather stay single for the rest of my life. How did you even think of such a thing? You amuse me,” Fabiola stood up and sparked outrageously. He wouldn't stop yelling at his Dad as though they were mates. "Can you stop yelling and get your ass down? I'm still your father and not one of those numerous prostitutes you flock around town with. I deserve some respect.” he calmed the situation and asked Fabiola to sit. Reluctantly, he obeyed and looked at his father with a bombastic side-eye. Alvin sighed and revealed the multi-billion dollar deal, Royal Gold Mine could lose if Fabiola refused to get married to Jenny. "So this is what everything is about. Are you selling me out for money? How cruel can you be? You aren't even concerned about my feelings. Do you even bother to ask what I want?” "I care about your future, that's why I'm doing this for you. Remember you'd one day inherit my legacy? I need to lay a better foundation for you.” "And what if I decline?” “You dare not because you're gonna be affected. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you to do it because if you don't, you risk losing your inheritance to your kid brother. I'll transfer all rights to him, and you'd be reduced to a mere staff of Royal Gold Mine. Which means, he automatically becomes my heir apparent,” "This is the height of wickedness. Am I even your biological son? I know you never liked me, but this? It is cruelty,” Fabiola placed his head on the desk and bemoaned. He didn't see this coming. If anyone had told him his father would do this, he would have gotten the person arrested for trying to destroy his future. "Enough with the emotions. Are you in or not? There's no time to think about it.” "You speak as though I've got a choice. I'll do this. What about her, did she accept?” Fabiola agreed after a prolonged silence. “Awesome! Worry not about her. She's just proving stubborn. She'll come around,” Alvin assured. Moments later, LaJennyjenny walked inside with a file in her possession. The moment she saw Fabiola seated in the office, she made a U-turn to walk away. “I'm sorry I have to come back. I can't stand him,” "That won't be necessary. You two need to start getting used to each other since you'll be living together for the next three years,” Alvin announced with a smile. "What do you mean? I haven't accepted your proposal yet,” she asked with a cracked tone. "I don't have a problem with your acceptance. I was only concerned about Fabiola's, but he has accepted already.” “He did?” Astonished, she asked. “Oh, yes, he did. Shocking right? I knew you would be,” Alvin laughed. “This is unbelievable. I thought…" Jenny paused for a moment after her phone suddenly rang from a strange caller. “Sorry, I need to take this,” she frowned and placed the phone on her left ear. "Yes, it's Jenny. Who are you? My mom? What happened to my mom? I would be there immediately,” she screamed and got off the phone. “What happened to your mom?” with the deepest concern, Alvin inquired. "I just got off the phone with a cop at the station. It's about my mom. He sounded so urgent. I think she's in danger,” She replied hurriedly. “Damn! Hold on a sec while I drop you off,” he opted. “ I'll find my way,” Jenny declined his request and stepped outside. Despite the devastating news, Fabiola wasn't moved. He remained glued to his position as though it were nobody's business.The letter came on a Friday.Not to Harry this time. To me.Tasha brought it up with the morning mail and set it beside the stack, not on it. She had developed an instinct over three years for the category of things that needed to arrive separately. She looked at me and did not say anything and closed the door.The envelope had the federal correctional facility's return address in the upper left corner.His handwriting on the front.Jennifer Alejandro it said.Not Knowles.Alejandro.I looked at it for a long time.I picked up the phone."Harry," I said, when he answered."Yes.""He wrote to me."A pause."Do you want me to come up?""No," I said. "I need to read it alone first.""All right.""I will tell you after.""Yes," he said. "I am here."I opened the envelope.Two pages. His handwriting, which I had seen on legal documents and charitable foundation reports and a notebook from 1985 that had been entered into federal evidence. The same controlled script. Slightly smaller than I
It started at breakfast on a Tuesday.Jo was two years and eight months old, which meant she had opinions about everything and the vocabulary to express most of them and the tenacity to circle back to the ones she could not yet fully articulate. She had been working something through for several days. I could tell because she had the expression she used for complicated things, the head tilt, the small furrow between her brows that was entirely her father's.She was eating her toast when she said it."Mama.""Yes.""Dada is Alejandro.""Yes.""I am Alejandro.""Yes. Knowles-Alejandro.""Fab-o-ya is Alejandro.""Yes."She chewed her toast."Why?""Why what?""Why same."She looked at me with the complete attention she gave to things she had decided required an answer. Not a deflection. Not a because that is how it is. The real answer.I sat down.Harry was at the stove.He turned the burner off and came to sit at the table too, which was right. This was both of us.Jo looked between us.
Her name was Claire Riley Not Detective Tan Claire from Zone 3 precinct. A different Claire entirely, which I noted and then set aside because coincidences do not require meaning to be true. She was twenty-four. She had been in the literacy program for eight months. My mother had mentioned her twice before she mentioned her a third time, which with my mother was the numerical threshold for pay attention."She reads everything I give her before the next session," my mother said. "And brings questions.""That is good," I said."She brought a question last week about a lease agreement she had found in her old landlord's records. She had identified a clause that was being applied incorrectly.""How?""She looked it up," my mother said. "At the library. On her own time."I called Renata that afternoon.Renata met her first.Standard procedure, she said, not because I had asked for it but because Renata had opinions about due diligence and acted on them without being directed. She called m
The email came from a journalist named Clara Osei.Not the Constitution. Not Celestine Park with her society column and her unfailing instinct for the moment a story was worth telling. A national magazine, the kind that ran long-form profiles on people doing things that were changing how institutions worked, the kind of magazine that had readers who made decisions about how other institutions worked.The subject line was: Profile Request — Royal Gold Mine / Jenny Knowles.I read it twice.I forwarded it to Renata."Should I?" I wrote.Her reply came in eleven minutes."You have been controlling the story from inside the building for two years. This is the version that goes outside it. Yes."I called Harry from the office at noon."A journalist wants to profile me," I said. "National magazine.""Yes," he said."You think I should do it.""I think you have been the CEO of a company that rebuilt itself after a criminal verdict for two years and you have done it correctly and nobody outsi
I noticed it on a Saturday in Octobr.I was at the lake house kitchen table with coffee that was the right strength because I had started making it myself, and Jo was in the backyard with a stick she had found, and Harry was on the dock reading the Floyd County remediation second phase report, and the lake was doing its October thing, and I realized I had not been afraid in a very long time.Not a single emergency.Not a filing. Not a threat. Not an unknown number at midnight. Not a photograph through a long lens or a GPS transmitter or a man in a dark suit appearing somewhere he should not be.Just the work.Just the ordinary accumulating texture of a life that had decided to be what it was.The company had three good quarters.Not spectacular. Good. The kind of good that came from doing the actual work rather than managing the appearance of it. The Floyd County remediation second phase began in April on schedule. Patricia from Charlotte came back as she said she would, brought two c
Renata called on a Thursday morning at nine."It is ready," she said. "You can come in or I can bring it to the office.""Bring it," I said. "We will all be there.""All of you?""Jo has her Thursday appointment with Marcus and the lobby fountain. Harry is in operations. I will call him up.""Eleven o'clock," she said."Renata.""Yes.""Thank you. For doing this as carefully as you did everything else."A pause."This one was easy," she said. "The easiest thing I have done in two years."I called Harry at nine fifteen."Come to twenty-six at eleven," I said."The adoption papers.""Yes.""Is Jo...'"With Marcus. She has already reorganized the fountain area and is apparently now supervising the lobby.""Of course she is," he said. "I will be there at eleven."He was there at ten fifty-two.He came in without knocking.He had stopped knocking months ago, the specific familiarity of a man who no longer needed permission to enter a room that was partly his. He sat in the chair across fro
“Mom, what's happening? Why is no one talking to me?” At that moment, she was gradually losing it. Josh wasn't ready to disclose either. The situation was way beyond him. He remained mute, planning how to select his words carefully so as not to get Jenny more upset."It's fine. I'll do the talkin
"This is hard to believe. Are you sure you brought the check to this bank? I don't even know what to believe anymore. None of this ever makes sense to me.” Connard questioned Josh's claims about the missing check. For months, Alvin has been making massive transactions with Ozone Bank, and not once
The rising sun cast a rosy hue across the morning sky The Theft.The rising sun cast a rosy hue across the morning sky as the chorus of melodic birdsong drifted in. "Where are you at, Fabiola? You're going to be late for work. I'm ready; let's go together.” Alvin, Fabiola's father, stood in front
CHAPTER 18 PUBLIC APPEARANCESThe folder was on my desk Monday morning before my coffee was.Magnolia Quarterly. Spring Issue. Cover.Inside it: a glossy proof of a young woman I did not yet know I had agreed to become.Alvin's note was clipped to the top in his small dry handwriting.Interview T







