Chapter 21 - The Day Corinne Stopped Being Mrs. Whitmore
Corinne was arrested on a Tuesday morning.
There were no photographers outside her apartment.
No dramatic struggle.
No shouting neighbors.
Two investigators arrived, confirmed her identity, and explained the warrant and the charges.
Daniel Price was already there.
Corinne had known the arrest was possible after her interview.
Still, when the handcuffs closed around her wrists, she began to shake.
“Can I ask something?” she whispered.
One investigator nodded.
“Within reason.”
“Does Adrian know?”
“I can't tell you that.”
She looked down.
“Okay.”
The criminal complaint included an attempted-murder charge and an alternative count relating to aggravated assault of a child. The charging decisions reflected the evidence investigators believed established her intent and conduct. Whether prosecutors could prove the most serious allegation would be decided in court.
Her admission did not make the case automatic.
Nor did her cooperation erase it.
At the courthouse that afternoon, her attorney argued for release under strict conditions.
The prosecutor emphasized the alleged violence against a vulnerable child, Corinne's access to significant financial resources, and the documented effort to influence the family's account of the incident.
The judge ordered her held pending a further hearing.
Corinne didn't cry until she saw Nathan sitting in the back row.
He looked exhausted.
Their eyes met.
She gave him a faint, embarrassed smile.
Nathan didn't smile back.
But he stayed until the hearing ended.
Outside, reporters crowded the courthouse steps.
Nathan refused to comment.
His phone rang while he walked toward the parking garage.
Adrian.
Nathan stopped.
For several seconds, he considered ignoring it.
Then he answered.
“Yeah?”
“Did she see you?”
Nathan leaned against a concrete pillar.
“Yes.”
“How was she?”
Nathan laughed bitterly.
“How do you think?”
Adrian said nothing.
Nathan rubbed his forehead.
“Sorry. That wasn't fair.”
“No,” Adrian said quietly. “It's a fair question.”
They stood in silence, connected by a phone call neither particularly wanted.
Finally, Nathan asked, “How's Junie?”
“Better some days.”
“And the others?”
“She has nightmares.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
“I'm sorry.”
Adrian's voice tightened.
“You keep saying that.”
“I know.”
“Do you understand what almost happened?”
“Yes.”
“No, Nathan. My daughter was hanging seven meters above the ocean. She was five. She thought she was going to die.”
Nathan covered his face.
“I know.”
“And while she was screaming, your sister stood there.”
Nathan had no answer.
Adrian continued.
“I don't want your explanations anymore.”
“Then why did you call?”
Adrian looked through the window of his study.
On the lawn below, Celia was helping Junie plant flowers.
“Because I wanted to know whether Corinne had anyone there.”
Nathan swallowed.
“She had me.”
“Good.”
Nathan stared at the concrete wall.
“Adrian?”
“What?”
“Why do you care?”
Adrian took a long breath.
“Because I don't want my daughter growing up thinking love means you stop being human when somebody hurts you.”
Nathan closed his eyes.
“She's lucky to have you.”
Adrian watched Junie struggle with a stubborn flowerpot.
“No,” he said. “I'm lucky she gave me another chance.”
He ended the call.
That evening, Adrian told Junie that Corinne would not be coming back to live with them.
They sat together at the kitchen table.
Celia was nearby, washing dishes.
Junie looked up from her coloring book.
“Ever?”
“Not to live here, peanut.”
“Because she pushed me?”
“Yes.”
“Did the police find out?”
“They're working on making sure everyone understands exactly what happened. Corinne has admitted she pushed you.”
Junie considered this.
“Did she say sorry?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Yes.”
“Did she mean it?”
“I can't know everything she's feeling.”
Junie looked down.
“Are you mad at her?”
“Yes.”
“Like really mad?”
“Really mad.”
Junie thought for a moment.
“I'm mad, too.”
Adrian reached across the table.
“That's okay.”
She looked relieved.
Then she asked something he hadn't expected.
“Can I still remember when she was nice?”
He felt his throat tighten.
“Of course.”
“Even though she was mean later?”
“Yes.”
Junie looked toward the window.
“She used to make my pancakes look like bears.”
Adrian nodded.
“I remember.”
“They were ugly bears.”
He laughed softly.
“Very ugly.”
Junie smiled.
Then her smile faded.
“I wish she didn't push me.”
Adrian reached for her hand.
“So do I, sweetheart.”
Junie squeezed his fingers.
“Can we have bear pancakes tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.”
“Not Corinne's way.”
“How should we make them?”
Junie considered it.
“Better ears.”
Adrian smiled.
“Better ears. Got it.”
That night, after Junie went to bed, Helen called.
“Adrian, the board has reviewed the initial historical findings.”
He straightened.
“About South Harbor?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Graham's involvement is more extensive than we originally understood. The company will be making additional disclosures and pursuing recovery where appropriate.”
Adrian looked toward Elise's photograph.
Helen continued.
“There's also the matter of your position.”
He sat down slowly.
“What about it?”
“The independent directors want to discuss whether you should temporarily step away from executive duties while the review continues.”
Adrian stared at the wall.
For a man who had spent twenty years building his father's company, the suggestion should have terrified him.
Instead, he looked toward the staircase.
His daughter was asleep upstairs.
Safe.
May you like
At least for tonight.
“Helen,” he said, “tell them I'll be there tomorrow.”
