Chapter 8 - THE RED DRESS CONFESSES NOTHING
Savannah met Claire in the back garden of the Price estate just before sunset, dressed casually for the first time in days and therefore somehow more dangerous.
No red dress.
No gala smile.
Just cool blond beauty and a woman’s refusal to look ashamed before someone she had tried to erase.
Evelyn had made the meeting happen by one sentence: Go explain yourself.
Savannah started first.
“You look better than I expected.”
Claire ignored it.
“What was in the second envelope?”
Savannah tilted her head.
“Straight to business?”
“We’re past pretending this was romance.”
A shadow of amusement touched Savannah’s face.
“You’d be surprised.”
Claire held up a still frame from the garage footage.
“You took something from Grant after you used my phone and wristband to validate a surgery cancellation.”
Savannah didn’t even flinch.
“You make it sound ugly.”
“It was ugly.”
Savannah crossed her arms.
“Fine. He gave me a packet. Boarding documents. Backup cards. Things for the Maldives.”
“Paid from what?”
“I didn’t ask.”
“Lie better.”
Savannah’s eyes cooled.
“You want the truth? Grant told me your surgery might kill you anyway. He said you were refusing to see what the company needed, refusing to sell, refusing to step aside. He said Blue Horizon could save six hundred people’s jobs, and you were holding everything hostage because you wanted to preserve a memorial.”
Claire let the words settle.
Because some of them hurt precisely because they were partly true.
Savannah saw that and pressed harder.
“He also said you knew about us months ago and kept him trapped.”
“I was in the hospital the morning you stole my surgical authorization.”
“And you still think this is about your marriage.”
Claire looked at her.
“No. I think it’s about your greed.”
Savannah laughed.
“You think I need your husband for money? My family could buy him twice.”
“Then why do it?”
That landed.
Savannah’s face hardened.
“Because he chose me.”
There.
The simple, childish core inside all the cleverness.
Claire said quietly, “He booked two seats to the Maldives. The second passenger wasn’t your name.”
Savannah went still.
Just for a beat.
Good.
Claire watched the confidence shift beneath her skin.
Then Savannah recovered.
“You’re bluffing.”
“No.”
Claire stepped closer.
“There was a second transfer the morning of the surgery. If I find where it went before you do, Grant will tell the world you acted alone.”
Savannah’s mouth tightened.
“Grant is not stupid.”
“Exactly. Which is why he’s already deciding what version of you is most disposable.”
Savannah looked away.
Only for a moment.
Then back.
“I did use your phone,” she said. “And your wristband. I thought I was validating a delay, not canceling your life. He told me the money was already committed to payroll protection.”
“Payroll?” Claire whispered.
Savannah hesitated.
Then:
“He said there was another reserve gap. A bigger one. Three-point-two million bigger.”
Claire stilled.
“That money was moved weeks ago.”
Savannah’s expression changed.
She hadn’t meant to say that much.
Claire saw it instantly.
Grant hadn’t just exploited the surgery.
He had created the crisis long before the hospital.
Savannah stepped back.
“I’m done.”
“Not yet. Where did the second transfer go?”
Savannah laughed once, brittle now.
“To the same place everything goes when Grant wants a clean exit.”
She turned and walked away.
Claire called after her.
“What does that mean?”
Savannah stopped at the gate.
May you like
Then without turning she said, “If you’re smart, don’t search his company files. Search his flight plans.”
And left Claire with a new question and a much larger theft.
