Chapter 18 - The Thing Nathaniel Would Not Trade
People ran around us.
Nobody realized what was happening.
Charles Wynn kept the gun hidden beneath my coat.
Nathaniel held the notebook.
My mother stood ten feet away.
Her face looked terrified.
Wynn whispered.
“Drop the notebook.”
Nathaniel did.
“Kick it toward me.”
He obeyed.
The notebook slid across the floor.
Wynn smiled.
“Excellent.”
I stared at Nathaniel.
He looked calm.
Too calm.
Then I noticed his eyes.
He was looking behind Wynn.
Dante stood near a pillar.
He could not shoot.
Too many people.
Wynn bent slightly to pick up the notebook.
His grip on me loosened.
My mother moved first.
She threw her handbag directly into his face.
Wynn flinched.
I dropped to the floor.
Nathaniel charged.
The gun fired.
People screamed.
Nathaniel tackled Wynn into a row of metal benches.
Dante reached them.
Agents surrounded Wynn.
My mother grabbed me.
“Ruby.”
“I’m okay.”
Then I saw blood.
Nathaniel was holding his shoulder.
The bullet had hit him.
“Dad.”
The word came out before I thought about it.
Nathaniel looked at me.
For a moment, he seemed to forget the pain.
I ran toward him.
He wrapped his good arm around me.
“You called me Dad.”
“You got shot.”
“I noticed.”
“Are you dying?”
“No.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Paramedics arrived.
Wynn was dragged away shouting.
“You think this changes anything?”
Nathaniel looked at him.
“Yes.”
Wynn laughed.
“Your daughter will inherit everything you are.”
Nathaniel shook his head.
“No.”
“She’ll inherit everything I should have been.”
Wynn’s smile disappeared.
The notebook provided enough evidence to connect him to Nathaniel’s father’s murder.
His fake death.
Calder’s operations.
The kidnapping.
The forged transactions.
The attempted theft of billions.
For the first time, every piece finally connected.
Nathaniel spent two nights in the hospital.
I spent both nights sleeping in a chair beside him.
My mother repeatedly told me there was a bed in the next room.
I refused to move.
On the second night, I woke to their quiet voices.
“Elena.”
“Yes?”
“I’m not asking you to come back to me.”
Silence.
“I know too much happened.”
“I know you built a life without me.”
My mother answered softly.
“I built survival.”
Nathaniel looked toward me.
“I want to be her father.”
“You are her father.”
“I mean really.”
“School meetings.”
“Bad grades.”
“Nightmares.”
“Birthdays.”
“Everything.”
My mother stayed quiet.
Then she said something that made me smile with my eyes closed.
“You can start with school lunches.”
Nathaniel laughed.
“How much are they?”
“You own banks and you don’t know what school lunch costs.”
“I have missed several important subjects.”
“Yes.”
“You have.”
May you like
Then my mother reached for his hand.
This time, she did not let go.
