Chapter 16 - The Price of Silence
The meeting took place by video the following Friday.
I sat at my kitchen table with my injured leg elevated.
Ruth appeared beside me in a separate window.
Across the screen sat my parents and their attorney, a gray-haired man named Leonard Price.
Sloan wasn't there.
Leonard began politely.
“My clients regret the distress surrounding the wedding.”
Ruth nodded.
“We appreciate that acknowledgment. But we need to separate the corporate financial dispute from Merritt's personal injury claim.”
My father leaned forward.
“We're willing to make the payment right.”
“Then you should work directly with the parties entitled to receive it,” Ruth answered.
My mother interrupted.
“We've already suffered enough public embarrassment.”
I felt heat rise into my face.
“You've suffered embarrassment?”
Leonard raised a hand.
“Let's keep this productive.”
He explained that my parents could offer repayment through a financing arrangement and wanted to settle any claims I might assert against them.
But when he reached the proposed statement concerning the staircase, I interrupted.
“I won't call the fall an accident.”
My mother's face hardened.
“You always insist on the harshest possible interpretation.”
“There is video.”
“You don't know what Sloan was thinking.”
“I know what she did.”
Leonard turned toward my parents.
“I need to be clear. My office cannot ask Ms. Vale to make a factual statement she believes is false.”
Dad looked irritated.
“Then what are we paying you for?”
“To help resolve the matters you can lawfully resolve.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Mom looked directly into her camera.
“Merritt, imagine being Sloan. Her marriage is over. People are whispering about her. Thatcher won't answer her calls.”
I waited.
“She feels abandoned.”
My hands tightened beneath the table.
“I was the one in the hospital.”
“And now you want everyone else to suffer too?”
I took a breath.
“Mom, I didn't cancel her wedding.”
“You showed Thatcher the video.”
“He already knew she'd pushed me.”
“You could have protected her.”
There it was.
The expectation beneath every family argument we'd ever had.
I could have protected Sloan.
By staying quiet.
By accepting the injury.
By allowing a corporate charge to remain on my record.
By sacrificing whatever somebody else needed me to sacrifice.
I looked at Ruth.
“I don't want to negotiate away the truth.”
She nodded.
“Understood.”
The meeting ended without an agreement.
Afterward, I sat alone at my kitchen table.
Outside, rain tapped against the window.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Sloan.
I need to tell you something about the payment. Please answer.
May you like
For several minutes, I stared at it.
Then I called her.
