Page 95 of The Truth of Us

“I know she showed up for you and you punished her for it.”

For a second, I couldn’t breathe right. Then, because I was a bastard and apparently committed to self-destruction, I went for blood.

“Oh.” My mouth curved into something ugly. “Like Sofia? Where’d your toy run off to?”

Rowan moved so fast that his chair hit the floor behind him. Julian and Caleb were up just as quickly. The admin beside me made a small sound of terror. Maybe a squeak.

“Out,” Julian said to the staff.

No one hesitated. Chairs fell as people fled. Theo remained seated with another donut. Because apparently, no force on earth could remove him from front-row seats to a Northwell emotional breakdown. Once the last staff member had disappeared, Julian closed the glass door and turned back toward us. His expression was colder now. Which I did not enjoy, because Lucy had made him human enough that disappointment looked wrong on him.

Caleb stood at the head of the table, and Rowan picked up his chair in complete silence. I sat back down because if I stayed standing, one of us was going through the glass wall. Probably me.

Caleb stared at both of us for a long second. Then he said, “Are we done?”

No one answered.

Theo raised his hand. Caleb glared at him, and Theo lowered it with a frown.

“Good,” Caleb said.

The silence stretched. Award-winning silence. The kind that deserved a plaque. The only person who looked like he was enjoying himself was Theo.

Fuck him. Also, I kind of wanted a donut.

Then I thought about how much I had been eating, drinking, not sleeping, not going to the gym, not doing anything except existing in a miserable loop. So instead, I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled.

Caleb sat down slowly. “As I was saying before this meeting became a group therapy session no one consented to, we received an interesting piece of information ahead of an official PR rollout.”

Rowan’s head lifted slightly. Mine did too. Because despite everything, we were who we were.

Information mattered.

Caleb slid a folder toward the center of the table.

“And an invitation to what may be one of the most significant private events of the year, maybe the decade.”

Julian reached for the folder first. His eyes moved over the page, then sharpened as he asked, “Alexander Montgomery?”

Rowan’s attention was locked in immediately. Even Theo leaned forward.

“Wait. Montgomery Montgomery?” Theo asked.

Caleb nodded.

Theo whistled low. “Damn.”

I frowned. Not because I didn’t know the name. Everyone knew the name. The Montgomery family existed in a realm where money stopped being a number and became infrastructure. Buildings, foundations, political legacies, universities, hospitals, and pieces of cities shaped by decisions made behind doors most people never saw. Old money was too small a phrase. The Montgomerys were an old power.

“Why is he inviting us?” Rowan asked.

Caleb leaned back. “That is the interesting part.”

I looked down at the folder, but didn’t open it. My attention kept drifting. Harper would have already known this; the thought appeared without permission. She would have walked into the room with a briefing before any of us had finished our first coffee. She would have known which board members mattered, which donors were performative, which journalists were fishing for access, which spouse knew more than their husband, and which assistant was actually the gatekeeper. She would have looked at me over the top of a file and said something dry about Northwell confusing visibility with influence, and I would have wanted to kiss her.

I swallowed and forced my focus back.

Caleb continued, “Montgomery International Foundation is making a leadership announcement. Alexander’s daughter will step into a formal role.”