Chapter 4 - The Company Claire — Simone CreatedWhen we landed in Minneapolis, Priscilla called. The visitor records confirmed that Simone had entered Ashford Center three years earlier. A note originating from my father's office instructed security to keep her downstairs and ask her to leave.
There was more. A restricted legal archive contained correspondence between my father, Bertram Locke, and Desmond Voss. In one email, Desmond wrote that I couldn't learn about Simone's pregnancy until after the Geneva merger because the financing might be jeopardized if my attention shifted elsewhere.
When we exited the terminal, Desmond was waiting beside two black SUVs. The moment he noticed Simone and the children, his expression revealed more than anything he might have said.
"You know her," I said.
"We've met."
"When?"
He paused. "Your father believed the relationship could interfere with your future."
"She was carrying my children."
"I knew about the pregnancy."
Those words transformed my anger into something quieter and far more permanent.
"You were my closest friend."
"I thought I was protecting you. You were preparing to leave Ashford Dynamics and disappear into some ordinary existence."
Simone turned toward me. "You were going to leave?"
Three nights before our separation, I had drafted a resignation letter and told only my father. When I returned from New York, Simone had already moved out, leaving behind a note explaining that she could no longer compete with my ambition.
She reached into her bag and handed me a printed email supposedly sent from my private account. It said I refused to sacrifice my future because she wanted a simpler life and instructed her to leave before I returned.
I had never written it. Desmond's silence told me enough.
For one brief moment, my emotions overwhelmed my judgment, and the confrontation became physical before I immediately stopped myself. Then Wesley started crying. I stepped away at once.
"I'm sorry, Wesley."
"You hurt him."
"I shouldn't have done that. It was wrong."
"Will the police take you?"
Despite the tension, Simone nearly laughed. "They certainly might want to discuss it," Desmond muttered.
I told him his position at the company was finished. He insisted I still needed him to complete the acquisition before turning toward Simone.
"Ask her why she's really flying to Minneapolis."
Simone's expression grew tense. "We're taking Josephine to the hospital."
"Then Ridgemont can wait," I said.
Desmond called after me, warning that the deal would vanish at 11:45.
I reached for Wesley's hand. "Then let it vanish."
By nine o'clock, Josephine was sitting comfortably in a hospital bed eating vanilla pudding. Her oxygen reading had returned to normal, although the physician wanted to monitor her for another hour.
Wesley taught me that dinosaurs, pancakes, and the color red were among his favorite things, while broccoli, bedtime, and socks with uncomfortable seams ranked among his greatest dislikes. Josephine was quieter, but when she handed me a picture book and softly asked, "Read?" I sat beside her and read every single word. Halfway through the story, she rested against my arm.
Simone noticed. Emotion filled her eyes, but she remained silent.
When Josephine admired my watch, I slipped it around her wrist. It was worth more than Simone's first house and almost covered Josephine's entire forearm.
"Absolutely not," Simone said.
"She likes it."
"She also enjoys eating frosting with her fingers. That doesn't mean it's a sensible idea."
Wesley immediately requested something equally impressive, so I handed him my cuff links.
Simone stared at me. "You once moved my coffee because you thought it was too close to that watch."
"I was ridiculous."
"You were."
Priscilla called while I was standing in the hallway. She had discovered that Simone was among Lighthouse Watch's original patent holders. Through a small company registered under her name, she controlled thirty-eight percent of Ridgemont.
When I returned to the room, Simone could tell from my expression that I had discovered the truth.
"You created Lighthouse Watch."
She looked toward Josephine. "After the twins came home, I couldn't stop thinking about the equipment in the neonatal unit. Josephine had eleven different monitors, but most of them couldn't communicate with one another. Before her infection became serious, her temperature increased slightly, her heart rate shifted, and she started drinking less milk. Individually, none of those changes seemed especially alarming."
"But together, they created a warning."
"Exactly. Marguerite Feld, one of the nurses who looked after us, said infants sometimes whisper before they become loud enough for everyone to notice. I had worked as a clinical systems engineer, so I began developing software capable of listening to those whispers."
"Why did you name it Lighthouse Watch?"
"A lighthouse cannot control the weather. It simply helps people recognize where the danger might be."
I had spent nine months attempting to acquire technology that existed because my own daughter had once needed something like it.
"You knew Ashford was bidding."
"Yes."
"And you still never contacted me."
May you like
She held my eyes. "I already contacted you thirty-three times."
There was nothing I could say against that.
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