Page 127 of Unlocked

"We are here," she said, "to address the matter of succession. The head of this Society died in the performance of his duties." Her statement was plain, devoid of embellishment, and Tatum appreciated that. "The rules of succession require that we elect a new head from among the board. Nominations are open."

Fisher didn't wait.

"I'd like to speak," he said, and without waiting for Remy's acknowledgment, he rose from his chair with the smooth confidence of someone who had rehearsed this, who had been rehearsing this for longer than anyone in the room fully understood.

"Austin Davis," he said, "was a man of extraordinary capability and vision. His death was a tragedy for this Society and for everyone who knew him." He paused, letting that sit, and Tatum kept her face entirely still. "Austin had suggested I be the next head of the Society. He made that clear in private conversations on multiple occasions. He believed I had the knowledge, the temperament, and the commitment to lead this organization into its next chapter."

He looked around the table.

"I want to be honest with you all about what I see when I look at the last year of this Society's leadership," he said. "I see missed opportunities. I see an organization that was run with too much secrecy, too much centralized control, and too little accountability. I see decisions made without consultation, resources deployed without transparency, and a culture of opacity that ultimately led to the death of a member on Society premises." He paused theatrically, dramatically emphasizing his words. "I intend to change all of that. I intend to build something open. Accountable. Something this Society can be proud of."

He sat down.

The room was quiet for a moment.

Tatum looked at her hands on the table. She thought about the cameras in Maine and Venice and the unauthorized surveillance that Fisher had tried to weaponize, about the witnesses for Lisbon that Armand had identified, about the eighteen months of money moving through channels Armand had traced, about the international backing that had been pulling Fisher's strings since before any of them had understood what was happening.

She thought about Archer, who had known all of it and carried all of it and had not said a word about it in a room full of people because that was not how he operated.

She thought about accountability.

She said nothing.

Remy let the silence run for exactly as long as it needed to. Then she said, "Thank you, Eli." Her voice was perfectly pleasant and entirely unreadable. "Anyone else?”

No one spoke.

“Good. Before we move to a vote, there is something I need to share with the board."

She reached into the leather folio in front of her and removed an envelope.

It was sealed. Cream colored. The kind of envelope that denoted something formal and considered and deliberate. Tatum had not seen it before, and she watched Remy hold it with the attention of someone who understood that what came out of it was going to matter.

"Archer Gray," Remy said, "was many things that we knew about and some things that we didn't. One of the things we didn't know, until his attorney contacted me ten days ago, is that he named a successor." She looked around the table. "In accordance with the Society's charter, a sitting head may designate a successor by sealed document lodged with an independent attorney. Archer did this fourteen months ago." She paused. "I am now going to open this envelope and read his choice to the board."

Fisher's expression had not changed; however, Tatum watched his face carefully and saw, beneath the surface of it, the first faint crack of something that was not quite composed.

Remy broke the seal. She unfolded the document inside and read it in silence for a moment, and something moved across her face that was quickly controlled.

Then she looked up.

"Archer Gray," she said, "has named Armand Fontaine as his chosen successor."

There was a sudden intake of breath all around the table, as if the air was being sucked out of the room.

Tatum looked at Armand. He was sitting with his hands folded on the table, and his expression was that of a man who had already known and had been carrying knowledge that demanded to be taken seriously. He met her eyes briefly, and she saw in them a grief for Archer that he hadn't shown her before, private and real and entirely his own.

Fisher said, "That document needs to be verified."

"It was sealed, Eli, so the document is valid. The envelope has followed the chain of custody protocols set in place. It has all been verified," Remy said pleasantly. "By two independent attorneys and the Society's own legal counsel. It is entirely in order." She set it on the table. "We will now take a vote. Those in favor of accepting Archer Gray's nominated successor, Armand Fontaine, as the new head of the Lock and Key Society."

Tatum's hand went up.

Jason's hand went up.

Remy's hand went up.

Around the table, one by one, hands lifted in the air, and Tatum watched it happen and felt something in her chest that was not quite relief and not quite grief, but something that sat between the two emotions, the particular feeling of a thing being done correctly in honor of someone who had cared very much about things being done correctly.