Chapter Forty-Eight Naomi

Chapter Forty-Eight

Naomi

March 2023, two months before her death

“We have no idea what happened to her,” Daisy says, tears rimming her eyes.

“So let me get this straight, you guys had planned on drugging DuPont, but Lila got it instead?”

Daisy sighs. “I really don’t know why she went out alone.”

“Do you think it was less accidental than it seemed? Do you think it was DuPont?”

She shrugs. “All I know is he wanted to silence her, and this would be a way to do it.” She hesitates, looking off to the side again. “None of us saw anything solid to pin on him, though. Maya thinks it was her fault, since she’d dispensed the drugs. There was some sort of mix-up with who was supposed to serve the drinks. But…I never blamed her.”

The waiter comes to our table with the check, and Daisy stops talking abruptly.

I reach for the bill. “I’ll get it.”

But she waves me off. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

—

After having lunch with Daisy, I’m left unsettled. While she was talking, I had this incomplete feeling, like I was missing some crucial part of the story.

Daisy cares about my sister, I know she does, but I have a feeling she wasn’t telling me everything. Maybe she was trying to protect me, or protect my sister.

But Kai, who could be brutally honest, would tell me the truth.

It’s now late afternoon, and the sun cuts skillfully between the sleek gray lines of the city. I’m watching the front doors of the high-rise where Kai’s firm is located: Stern, Cooper, & Sterling (yes, that Sterling). As the sun disappears, the temperature drops and it starts to drizzle, I wonder if Kai’s firm represents the Greystone members who are under investigation. I blow on my hands and rub them together to stay warm.

I’m not sure how much longer I can take the cold. I thought about going inside and waiting in the lobby, but I don’t want anyone to ask me why I’m here. I want to catch her off guard.

I wait for what feels like an hour, until finally I see her. She’s on the phone, pushing open the turnstile door. I rush up to her, put on a big smile, and wave.

She sees me and frowns, confused at first, but after a moment she hangs up the call and smiles.

“What are you doing in the city?” Kai asks. “Don’t you have class?”

I put my finger to my lips in a shh motion. “I skipped econ. Don’t tell Maya.”

Kai gives me a playful scolding look. “And you’re asking me to support this bad behavior?” She shakes her head.

“I was nearby so I thought I’d stop by and say hi,” I say cheerfully.

“Well, it’s always nice to see you, love, and I wish I could take you out to dinner, but I have a meeting to get to.” She looks at her watch, a small, expensive-looking piece. “I’m late. But you’re welcome to walk with me.”

Kai takes off at a brisk New Yorker pace uptown. As she expertly weaves in and out of slow-walking pedestrians, my heart pumps as I try to keep up. “So, tell me everything,” she says. “How are classes? How are boys?”

“Good, good, can’t complain,” I say. “I’m dating a guy Maya doesn’t like…no surprise there. But it’s not serious.”

“Tell me more,” Kai says.

“I don’t know…he’s in Sterling, plays tennis…it’s not like we’re going to get married or anything.”

Kai gives me a look. “Of course not,” she says. “Trust me, you want to be single in your first years post-college. Your early twenties in the city are everything.” She pauses at a red light, and I’m grateful for a second to catch my breath. “You are moving to the city afterward, aren’t you?”

I tell her how I want to travel after graduation and then settle back in the city afterward. Ask her opinion on bookstore management jobs versus publishing graduate programs. She says she’ll put me in touch with a friend and offers to help me find a place.

Finally, when the sidewalk has cleared, and we’re headed up 57th Street toward the park, I manage to step in. “Did you hear about the leaked documents from Hunt Investment Group? The ones about Greystone?”

Kai looks at me. “I heard about the leaked emails, insider trading and fraud allegations, but nothing about Greystone directly.”

Shit. Of course she didn’t know about the documents the Times hadn’t reported on yet. Amy will never forgive me for letting this slip. I try to hide the flush burning my cheeks and hope she thinks it’s from the cold. “Oh, I just assumed…”

“Naomi,” Kai says, stopping to face me. “What do you know about the leak?”

I exhale, wondering how much to tell her. “There are some emails about a girl who died who was in Greystone. She was a senior in 2012…”

Kai stands back, a look of recognition on her face. She looks away and takes a deep inhale.

“I wanted to ask you about it,” I continue. “Lila’s brother emailed Marta. He wanted to know what really happened. Marta told DuPont and he shut her down. But if it was an accident, why would he be so nervous? I know about the assault, but…it feels like there is a piece I’m missing.” Kai’s face is paler than I’ve ever seen it. “Please—I can’t ask Maya—”

Kai shakes her head and gestures for me to follow her to a quieter part of the street. “Look,” she says, once we’ve settled. “It was a long time ago. We were young. And stupid. What happened to Lila was awful. But it was an accident.” Kai leans in closer, her eyes intent on mine. “We were friends with her. None of us wanted her to die.”

Kai sighs. “Let me tell you something.” She hesitates, as if gathering her thoughts. “Over the years, I’ve seen my colleagues put in long hours at the firm. Bright young lawyers with Ivy League degrees, top of their class. Well, the ones who get promoted, do you know what they had in common?”

I stare at her blankly, trying to understand how this has anything to do with Lila.

“They resemble the men making the decisions. The partners.”

“White and gray,” I say.

A scornful puff of air releases from her nose. “If by gray you mean Greystone, then yes. I wish I could tell you success was all hard work and intellect, darling, but it’s not. At least half is luck, timing, and the right mentors.” She sighs. “So no, I didn’t say anything all those years ago. Do I wish I had? Yes. I wish more than anything I could go back. I do. But at the time, there weren’t many women of color in Big Law, not many women period, and when I was struggling to get a job, Matthew DuPont was the only one who offered to help. So I kept my mouth shut.”

I take a step back. “He physically assaulted her.” I thought I knew what kind of person Kai was. I thought I knew her. “You let it happen. All of you just let it happen.”

“We didn’t let it happen, we picked up the pieces after. We then tried to make Matthew suffer as much as we could, given the position we were in,” she says, speaking more quickly now. “I mean, we were twenty-one! We didn’t go about it the right way. We should have contacted the authorities, at the very least, and hired a lawyer, not tried to handle it ourselves.” She heaves a heavy sigh and places a hand on my shoulder. I can hardly stand to look at her. “This is serious. You could ruin a lot of people’s lives. Please, don’t ask anyone else about it—especially Maya. When Lila died…it tore her apart. She’s never gotten over it.”

My neck grows hot, and I jerk back from her grasp. “And if he killed her? Don’t you care that a murderer is out in the world, living his life like nothing happened?”

“It’s too late to do anything about it now,” she says, shaking her head. “I admire what you’re trying to do here, Naomi, but learn from our mistakes, and don’t try to fix things that are beyond your reach.”

I think of what Amy’s sacrificed to uncover the truth. I think of our room destroyed, the hate on our wall, and feel my whole body stiffen. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing. I’m going to the police.”

“Naomi, don’t be rash. If you do that, your sister is going to end up in prison.” Kai looks down.

I stare at her. I take a step back, slowly retreating as the desperation of the past year boils up within me. “No, she didn’t do anything on purpose…she wouldn’t…”

Kai looks behind her at a woman with a large shopping bag passing too closely, and once the woman has passed, she leans in close and lowers her voice to a blunt whisper. “Your sister did do something on purpose. Drugging someone without their knowledge is a felony. When the person dies, that’s felony murder, best-case scenario. It doesn’t matter if the drug was intended for someone else, what matters in court is what actually happened. Do you understand?” The intense fear in her eyes scares me, and what she says next rips the remaining breath from my lungs. “Your sister could go to prison for life.”

—

Maya committed felony murder ? the realization sends a wave of dread over me.

Once settled on the train, I call Amy. “We have to drop it.”

“What, why?” She sounds alarmed.

Because my sister could go to prison for life. I draw in a breath. “You can publish the article, but we have to keep my sister out of it.”

This quiets her. She seems to understand. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

—

It’s hard to focus as I sit next to Amy in DuPont’s class the next day. I haven’t gone to his lecture in weeks. My grades are slipping, and I should drop the class, but that would require meeting with DuPont.

“It’s my turn to present today,” Amy whispers.

I blink at her. “What?”

“Our presentations, remember? They were assigned months ago. Yours is probably coming up.” Noticing that Amy is more dressed up than usual in her black blazer and heeled oxford loafers, I try to remember signing up to present a topic to class, but I’ve been so distracted lately that nothing comes to mind.

“Amy Chen.” DuPont motions for Amy to come to the stage.

“Wish me luck.”

Amy’s speech is on the rising interest rate and its effect on the housing market. Halfway through her speech, she clicks to the next slide on the projector, and her face falls. She fumbles with the remote. I’ve zoned out a little when I start to hear low murmurs ripple through the class, and behind me, some guys breaking out in laughter.

I turn around and glare at them. It’s Pete Whitney and friends, of course. “What the hell is your problem?” I snap.

Pete’s face is red from laughing. I don’t understand what’s happening until I hear suppressed chuckles echo throughout the entire two-level lecture hall. Pete looks past my shoulder and points to the stage.

To my horror, the screen where Amy’s presentation had been is now playing a recording of Amy in her dorm room, dressed in lingerie and makeup, flirting with the camera like a cam-girl. It’s impossible to hear what she’s saying over the laughter of the audience, but it sounds like she’s having some kind of sexy video call. A guy’s voice is egging her on.

“Turn it up!” Behind me, Pete and his friends burst out in laughter again. Ignoring Pete, I rush toward the stage where Amy is desperately gathering her notes. On her way down the stairs, she stumbles and spills the papers all over the floor.

“Let me help.” I bend down and start gathering papers for her. She is shaking uncontrollably as she blinks tears away.

Once we’ve gathered her things, I stand to find an entire classroom of people staring. A girl in front whispers loudly to her friend. Several others shamelessly raise their phones.

“It’s okay,” I say, moving in front of her. “Ignore them.” But Amy has already seized her things and is surging down the aisle toward the exit. People are laughing, turning their phones to get the shot.

“What are you looking at?” I yell. “Put your phones away!”

Before following after her, I turn to take one last look at the projector and notice something I hadn’t registered before. Text that reads: You’re in a private video call with @chinacutiexx. It looks like YourFans, one of those subscription sites where your followers can pay for content.

My eyes slide down to DuPont, who is standing below the projector. His face is in shadow and I can’t see his eyes. He could have easily stopped it. He could have shut the projector down, or clicked out of Amy’s presentation. What are you doing standing there? I want to scream. And that’s when it hits me like a blow to my center—he was letting this happen.

“Okay, everyone,” DuPont says, stepping forward into the light to reveal his expression, calm and calculated. “That’s enough.”