He opened a photograph from an industry awards dinner. Vivian stood beside him, smiling politely as he accepted a prize for innovation. Behind them was a screen displaying the word LANTERN. He remembered how many hours Callan had worked on that project. He also remembered how good it felt to hear his own name announced. The memories existed side by side in his mind without touching, which was how he had managed to live with them.
He called his attorney. "They want to make me the villain so she can save her reputation," he said.
His attorney, Arthur Keene, asked him a question Blaine had been avoiding. "Did you authorize anyone to represent that Mercer approved a change he hadn't reviewed?"
"I authorized efficient management of a system the company owned."
"That's not what I asked."
Blaine stared at the river. For the first time, the habit of answering a different question did not end the conversation.
Meanwhile, Callan began receiving legitimate job inquiries. A small financial technology company with offices in Brooklyn offered him a leadership role focused on reliable payment systems. A nonprofit research institute wanted to discuss a grant-funded project on transparent risk controls. An older colleague called from Chicago to say he would gladly recommend Callan for a remote position if he wanted to leave New York. None of these possibilities solved every problem. All involved work he cared about and schedules he would need to examine carefully. But hearing from people who knew his actual abilities loosened something that had been tight around his chest for years.
He told June during a walk through Astoria Park that he might find a different job. The trees were beginning to turn yellow, and she was collecting leaves to press between pages of a library book. She carried a little paper bag full of specimens, each of which she insisted had a distinct personality.
"Would we have to move?" she asked.
"Not necessarily. I'm trying to find work close enough to stay here."
"I like our school."
"I know."
"And Mrs. Morales."
"I like her too."
June stopped beneath a tree and studied him. "Do you like your boss lady?"
The question made him laugh in surprise. "I respect her."
"Is that like liking?"
"Sometimes. It means you think somebody is trying to do the right thing, even when the right thing is difficult."
"Mom liked that," June said.
He nodded. Hannah had liked people who could admit an error and return to the work. She used to say that kindness without courage was often only politeness. He thought of Vivian walking out into the executive corridor and telling Blaine to step away. She had been under no obligation to do that in front of witnesses. She could have summoned the men separately and preserved everyone's pride. Instead, she had protected the person who was being publicly humiliated and allowed the onlookers to understand why.
"Yes," he said. "Your mom did."
June placed a yellow leaf in the bag. "Then maybe she's nice. But you should make sure."