Chapter 39
"We're not taking your jet."
Daniel's hand froze on his phone screen. "Nora—"
"I said no." I grabbed my own phone from where it had fallen, Morrison's voice still crackling from the speaker. "Agent Morrison? I'm here."
"Nora, listen to me." Morrison's voice had that tight quality that meant she was moving fast, probably already in a car. "Richard posted bail at 3:47 PM. He was wheels up by 4:15. We're scrambling a team but Portland PD is forty minutes out from your mother's location and Richard's ETA is—"
"How did he make bail?" My voice came out flat. "You said the charges were serious. You said—"
"His lawyers argued he wasn't a flight risk given his business ties. The judge—look, it doesn't matter now. What matters is getting your mother somewhere safe."
Daniel was still standing there with his phone, waiting. His jaw was set in that way that meant he'd already made a decision and was just waiting for me to catch up.
I turned away from him. "What do you need me to do?"
"Call her. Tell her to go to a public place, somewhere with cameras and witnesses. We've got units en route but—"
"But they won't get there in time." I was already pulling up my mother's contact. "Okay so, I'll call her now. Where should I tell her to go?"
"The police station on Southeast Hawthorne. It's ten minutes from her apartment."
My mother answered on the second ring. "Nora? I thought you were in New York."
"Mom, listen to me." I kept my voice steady even though my hands were shaking. "I need you to leave your apartment right now. Don't pack anything, don't—"
"What? Honey, what's wrong?"
"There's a man coming. His name is Richard Park and he's—" How did I explain this? How did I tell my mother that I'd gotten involved with the FBI and now a man who'd just been shot was on his way to hurt her because of me? "He's dangerous. You need to go to the police station on Southeast Hawthorne. Right now."
"Nora, you're scaring me."
"Good. Be scared. Just—please, Mom. Please just go."
There was a pause. Then: "Is this about Daniel?"
My throat closed. "It's complicated."
"That's not an answer."
"Mom—"
"You sound like you did when things got complicated with the restaurant. When you wouldn't tell me how bad it really was." Her voice softened. "Baby, what did you get yourself into?"
Daniel moved closer. I could feel the heat of him at my back, could smell the expensive detergent his housekeeper used on his shirts. He reached past me and took the phone gently from my hand.
"Mrs. Chen," he said. "This is Daniel Park. I'm going to make sure nothing happens to you, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?"
I couldn't hear my mother's response, but Daniel nodded. "Good. Go to the police station. There will be officers there who know you're coming. And Mrs. Chen?" He paused. "I'm sorry. For all of it."
He handed the phone back to me. My mother was saying something about how she'd always known there was more to the story, how she'd known from the first lunch box that Daniel was trouble, but she was moving—I could hear her keys jangling, her door closing.
"I'm going," she said. "But Nora? When this is over, you and I are going to have a very long conversation."
"I know."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
The line went dead. I stood there holding the phone, staring at the blank screen. Morrison was still on the other line, saying something about protective custody and safe houses, but I couldn't focus on her words.
Daniel's jet would get us there in three hours. Commercial flights would take six, maybe seven with layovers.
"Nora." Daniel's voice was quiet. "Let me help."
I turned to face him. He looked exhausted, the kind of bone-deep tired that came from carrying too many secrets for too long. There was a smudge of something—blood, maybe Richard's—on his collar.
"Why?" I asked. "Why do you want to help?"
"Because she's your mother."
"That's not an answer."
His mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "You sound like her."
"Daniel—"
"Because I can." He slid his phone into his pocket. "Because I have resources and Richard is my uncle and this is my fault. Because—" He stopped. Started again. "Because six years ago I made a choice that hurt people, and I've been trying to make up for it ever since, and I'm tired of failing."
There it was. The accident. The thing Richard had thrown at us like a grenade.
"Tell me," I said. "Tell me what happened six years ago."
"On the plane."
"No. Now."
"Nora—"
"You want me to trust you? You want me to get on your private jet and fly across the country with you? Then tell me the truth. Right now. No more deflecting, no more 'I can handle it,' no more—" My voice cracked. "No more secrets."
Daniel looked at me for a long moment. Then he walked to the window, pressed his forehead against the glass. Outside, the city was turning gold with sunset, all those buildings full of people who weren't having the worst day of their lives.
"Her name was Sarah," he said finally. "Sarah Kim. She was my assistant. Twenty-three years old, first-generation, working three jobs to send money home to her parents in Seoul." His breath fogged the glass. "Richard asked me to drive her home one night after a late meeting. It was raining. I was tired. I'd been working eighteen-hour days for months, trying to prove myself, trying to show my father I could handle the responsibility."
My nails dug into my palms.
"I ran a red light." His voice was completely flat now, empty of inflection. "Didn't even see it. There was a truck. It hit the passenger side. Sarah—" He stopped. "She survived. Barely. Traumatic brain injury, shattered pelvis, months in the hospital. The medical bills were—" He laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Richard made it go away. Paid the family two million dollars, got Sarah a new identity, relocated them to Vancouver. Told me it was handled. Told me to forget about it."
"But you didn't forget."
"How could I?" He turned to face me. "I put a twenty-three-year-old woman in a wheelchair for the rest of her life because I was too proud to call a car service. Because I thought I could handle it."
The jade bracelet was cold against my wrist. I thought about all those lunch boxes, all those carefully prepared meals. The way Daniel always asked if I'd eaten, the way he watched me like he was afraid I might disappear.
"You've been sending her money," I said. "Haven't you?"
"Every month. Anonymous wire transfers. It's not enough. It'll never be enough. But it's—" He shrugged. "It's what I can do."
"Does she know it's from you?"
"No. Richard made sure of that. Part of the settlement was that I'd have no contact. He said it was better that way. Cleaner." Daniel's hands curled into fists. "I was twenty-six. I believed him. I thought—I thought if I just worked hard enough, if I built something good enough, I could balance the scales somehow."
I thought about the Daniel I'd met three months ago, the one who'd offered me a business arrangement with clinical precision. The one who'd never smiled, never joked, never let anyone close enough to see the guilt he was carrying.
"That's why you started the mentorship program," I said slowly. "The one for first-generation college students. That's why you personally review every application."
"Sarah wanted to be a teacher." His voice was barely audible. "She was taking night classes. Education degree. She was—" He stopped. "She was a good person. Better than me."
Morrison's voice crackled from my phone, tinny and distant. "Nora? Are you still there? We need to coordinate—"
I lifted the phone. "We're taking Daniel's jet. Text me the details for Portland PD."
"Nora, I don't think that's—"
"He's coming either way. At least this way we get there faster." I ended the call before she could argue.
Daniel was watching me with an expression I couldn't read. "You believe me."
"I don't know what I believe." I grabbed my jacket from the back of the chair. "But my mother is in danger and you have a plane and right now that's all that matters. We can—" I stopped. Started over. "Let's just get to Portland. Everything else can wait."
"Can it?" He moved closer. "Because you look at me like I'm a stranger now. Like everything we—" He stopped himself. "Like it was all a lie."
"Was it?"
"No." The word came out fierce. "No. Everything I told you, everything we—that was real. That was the most real thing in my life."
"But you lied about Sarah."
"I didn't lie. I just—"
"Didn't tell me. Right." I headed for the door. "That's what Richard said too. That he didn't lie, he just didn't correct my assumptions. Funny how that works."
"Nora—"
"Your jet. Where is it?"
He pulled out his phone, typed something. "Teterboro. Twenty minutes away. I'll have a car meet us downstairs."
"Fine."
"Nora, please—"
"I said fine." I yanked open the door. "Let's go save my mother from your uncle. Then we can figure out what the hell we're doing."
The car was a black Mercedes with leather seats that probably cost more than my monthly rent. The driver didn't speak, just pulled smoothly into traffic while Daniel made phone calls in rapid Korean. I caught enough words to know he was calling in favors, mobilizing resources, doing whatever it was that billionaires did when they needed to move fast.
My phone buzzed. Morrison.
Portland PD has eyes on your mother. She's at the station. Safe for now.
I typed back: And Richard?
Landed fifteen minutes ago. Lost him at the airport.
My stomach dropped. I showed Daniel the message. He read it, his jaw tightening, then went back to his phone call. More Korean, faster now, with an edge that made the driver's shoulders tense.
"What did you say?" I asked when he hung up.
"I have people in Portland. Security team I keep on retainer for the office there. They're heading to the police station now."
"You have an office in Portland?"
"I have offices in twelve cities." He said it matter-of-factly, like it was normal to have a private security force scattered across the country. "The team there is good. Former Secret Service. They'll keep your mother safe until we arrive."
I wanted to argue, to say I didn't need his money or his resources or his guilt-driven protection. But my mother was in danger because of me, because I'd agreed to wear a wire and play FBI informant, and pride was a luxury I couldn't afford.
"Thank you," I said instead.
Daniel looked at me like I'd surprised him. "You don't have to thank me."
"Yeah, I do." I turned to watch the city slide past the window. "You didn't have to help. You could have—I don't know. Let me figure it out on my own. Let me deal with the consequences of my choices."
"Is that what you think?" His voice was quiet. "That I'd just walk away?"
"I don't know what to think anymore." The jade bracelet was warm now from my body heat. "Three hours ago I thought I knew you. I thought—" I stopped. "It doesn't matter what I thought."
"It matters to me."
"Why?" I turned to face him. "Why does it matter? We had an arrangement. A business deal. Fake relationship for your board, real food for your employees. Clean, simple, no complications. That's what you wanted, right?"
"That's what I thought I wanted." He was looking at me with an intensity that made my chest tight. "Before I knew you. Before I—" He stopped. "Before."
The car hit a pothole. I grabbed the door handle to steady myself, and Daniel's hand shot out to brace my shoulder. The touch lasted maybe two seconds, but I felt it everywhere.
"Don't," I said.
"Don't what?"
"Don't touch me like that. Like you—" I pulled away. "Like we're something we're not."
"What are we, Nora?"
"I don't know." My voice came out sharper than I meant. "I don't know what we are. I don't know if we're anything. I don't know if we ever were."
"You know that's not true."
"Do I?" I turned to face him fully now. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you've been lying to me from the start. The arrangement, the lunch boxes, the—" I stopped before I said something I couldn't take back. "Everything."
"I never lied about how I felt."
"You just lied about everything else."
"I didn't—" He stopped. Started again. "I didn't tell you about Sarah because I was ashamed. Because every time I looked at you, every time you smiled at me like I was someone worth knowing, I thought about her. About what I did. About how you'd look at me if you knew."
"Like this?" I gestured at the space between us. "Like I can't trust anything you say?"
"Yes." The word was barely audible. "Exactly like that."
The car pulled up to a private entrance at Teterboro. The driver got out, opened Daniel's door. Daniel didn't move.
"I'm sorry," he said. "For Sarah. For not telling you. For—" He stopped. "For all of it. I know that's not enough. I know sorry doesn't fix anything. But I need you to know that everything between us, everything that mattered—that was real. That was the only real thing."
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to believe him so badly it hurt. But I'd spent my whole life watching my parents build something beautiful and then lose it because they trusted the wrong people, made the wrong choices, believed the wrong promises.
"Let's just get to Portland," I said. "Okay so, we save my mother, we deal with Richard, and then—" I stopped. "Then we figure out what's real and what's not."
Daniel nodded slowly. Got out of the car. Held the door for me like we were on a date instead of fleeing across the country to stop his uncle from hurting my mother.
The jet was smaller than I'd expected. Cream leather seats, polished wood accents, a flight attendant who appeared from nowhere to take our jackets. Daniel spoke to her in low tones, and she disappeared again.
"We'll be wheels up in ten minutes," he said. "Flight time is approximately three hours and twenty minutes. I've arranged for a car to meet us at the airport."
"Okay."
"Nora—"
"I don't want to talk about it right now." I buckled myself into a seat by the window. "I just want to get there. I just want my mother to be safe. Everything else—" I stopped. "Everything else can wait."
Daniel sat across from me, not next to me. The distance felt deliberate. Careful. Like he was trying to give me space even though we were trapped in a metal tube about to fly across the country together.
The engines started. The flight attendant reappeared with water, with warm towels, with a quiet efficiency that suggested she'd seen worse than two people who couldn't look at each other.
We taxied. Lifted. The city fell away beneath us, all those lights and lives and people who weren't us.
"I visit her," Daniel said suddenly. "Sarah. Once a year, on the anniversary. I don't talk to her. I just—" He stopped. "I go to Vancouver and I sit in my car outside her building and I watch her leave for physical therapy. I watch her struggle with the wheelchair ramp. I watch her mother help her into the van. And then I drive back to the airport and I fly home and I tell myself that next year I'll do better. I'll build something bigger, help more people, somehow make up for what I took from her."
I didn't say anything. Couldn't.
"Richard found out last year. He said I was being pathetic. He said the past was the past and I needed to move on, focus on the future, stop letting guilt control my decisions." Daniel's laugh was bitter. "He said I was weak. That I'd never be the kind of leader the company needed if I couldn't let go of one mistake."
"It wasn't a mistake," I said quietly. "It was a choice. You chose to drive when you were too tired. You chose to run that light. You chose—" I stopped. "You chose to let Richard make it disappear instead of facing the consequences."
"I know."
"Do you?" I turned to look at him. "Because it sounds like you've been punishing yourself for six years instead of actually making amends. It sounds like you've been hiding behind guilt instead of—" I stopped. "Instead of being honest."
"I'm being honest now."
"Because you got caught. Because Richard threw it in your face and you had no choice." My voice was rising. "That's not honesty, Daniel. That's damage control."
"You're right." He said it simply, without defensiveness. "You're absolutely right. I should have told you weeks ago. I should have—" He stopped. "I should have trusted you."
"Yeah," I said. "You should have."
The flight attendant appeared with food. Sandwiches, fruit, cheese. I wasn't hungry but I ate anyway, mechanical bites that tasted like nothing. Daniel didn't touch his plate.
My phone buzzed. Morrison again.
Richard's car was spotted heading toward the station. ETA 8 minutes. Your mother is secure inside but we need to move her soon.
I showed Daniel. He was already pulling out his phone, already making another call. More Korean, more commands, more of that authority that came from a lifetime of people doing what he said.
"My team is there," he said when he hung up. "Four men, all armed, all trained. They'll escort your mother to a safe house as soon as we land."
"And Richard?"
"Portland PD has a warrant. They'll arrest him the moment he makes a move."
"Will they?" I set down my sandwich. "Because he made bail in New York. He has lawyers and money and—" I stopped. "He's a Park. The rules don't apply to people like him."
"They will this time." Daniel's voice was hard. "I'll make sure of it."
"How?"
"I'll testify. Against him. About Sarah, about the cover-up, about—" He stopped. "About everything. I'll give the FBI whatever they need to put him away."
I stared at him. "That'll destroy you. Your reputation, your company, your—"
"I know."
"Daniel—"
"I should have done it six years ago." He met my eyes. "I should have told the truth then. I should have faced the consequences. I should have—" He stopped. "I should have been better. I'm trying to be better now."
The plane hit turbulence. My water glass slid across the table. Daniel caught it before it fell, set it back in front of me with careful precision.
"I don't know if I can forgive you," I said quietly. "I don't know if—" I stopped. "I don't know anything anymore."
"I'm not asking for forgiveness." He leaned back in his seat. "I'm just asking for a chance to make this right. To protect your mother. To stop Richard. To—" He stopped. "To be the person you thought I was."
"I don't even know who that person is anymore."
"Neither do I." He closed his eyes. "But I'd like to find out."
We landed in Portland at 9:47 PM. The car was waiting, another black Mercedes with another silent driver. Daniel's phone rang before we even left the tarmac.
He answered in Korean, listened, then went very still.
"What?" I asked. "What is it?"
He lowered the phone. "Richard's not at the police station."
"What do you mean he's not—"
"He never went there. The car we were tracking—it was a decoy. He sent his driver while he—" Daniel stopped. "He went to your mother's apartment."
The world tilted. "But she's at the station. She's safe. You said—"
"She left." Daniel's voice was tight. "Ten minutes ago. She told the officers she needed to get something from her apartment. Something important. They tried to stop her but she—" He stopped. "She left, Nora. And Richard is there."
I was already moving, already out of the car, already running toward—where? I didn't even know where I was going. Daniel caught my arm, pulled me back.
"The car," he said. "We'll take the car. It's faster."
I let him guide me back, let him buckle me in, let him tell the driver to go, go, go. My phone was ringing. Morrison. I answered.
"Nora, listen to me—"
"Where is she?" My voice didn't sound like mine. "Where's my mother?"
"We have units en route. They're three minutes out. But Nora—" Morrison paused. "Richard's inside. We can hear him on the wire. He's—" Another pause. "He's asking for you."
"What?"
"He says he'll let her go if you come. Just you. No police, no FBI, no—" Morrison stopped. "No Daniel."
I looked at Daniel. He was already shaking his head.
"No," he said. "Absolutely not. You're not going in there alone."
"He has my mother."
"I don't care. You're not—"
"Daniel." I put my hand over his. "He has my mother."
"Then we'll wait for the police. We'll—"
"We don't have time." I pulled my hand away. "You know we don't have time. You know Richard. You know what he's capable of."
"Which is exactly why you're not going in there."
"It's not your choice."
"Nora—"
"It's not your choice," I said again, harder this time. "She's my mother. My responsibility. My—" I stopped. "My fault. This is my fault. I'm the one who agreed to work with the FBI. I'm the one who wore the wire. I'm the one who—" My voice cracked. "I'm the one who put her in danger."
"No." Daniel's voice was fierce. "Richard put her in danger. Richard is the one who—" He stopped. "This isn't on you."
"Then whose fault is it?" I turned to face him fully. "Yours? Because you didn't stop him six years ago? Because you let him cover up Sarah's accident? Because you—" I stopped. "We're both responsible. We both made choices that led here. But right now, in this moment, I'm the only one who can fix it."
"By walking into a trap?"
"By saving my mother."
The car screeched to a stop. We were outside a modest apartment building, the kind with security cameras that probably didn't work and a front door that didn't quite close all the way. Police cars were pulling up, lights flashing, officers spilling out with weapons drawn.
Morrison was there, phone pressed to her ear, gesturing at her team. She saw me and started over, but I was already moving, already heading for the building entrance.
Daniel caught my arm. "Wait."
"I can't—"
"Just wait." He pulled me around to face him. "Let me go instead. Let me—"
"He doesn't want you. He wants me."
"Because he knows it'll hurt me more." Daniel's grip tightened. "Don't you see? This isn't about your mother. This is about punishing me. About showing me that I can't protect the people I—" He stopped. "The people who matter."
"Then let him punish you." I pulled free. "Let him win this round. I don't care. I just want my mother safe."
"Nora—"
Morrison reached us. "We've got the building surrounded. Snipers on the roof across the street. SWAT is ready to breach on my signal. But Richard says if he sees anyone but you, he'll—" She stopped. "He'll hurt her."
"Then I'm going in."
"We can't let you do that."
"You can't stop me." I started for the door. "Which apartment?"
"Third floor. 3B. But Nora—"
I was already inside, already climbing the stairs. Behind me I could hear Daniel arguing with Morrison, hear her telling him to stand down, hear him saying something in that command voice that probably worked on everyone except federal agents.
The hallway on the third floor was empty. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. Someone's TV was too loud, playing what sounded like a game show. The door to 3B was slightly ajar.
I pushed it open.
Richard was sitting in my mother's armchair, the floral one she'd bought at a yard sale and reupholstered herself. He looked almost relaxed, legs crossed, hands folded in his lap. There was a bandage on his shoulder where Morrison had shot him, but otherwise he looked fine. Unruffled. Like this was just another business meeting.
My mother was on the couch, hands zip-tied in front of her, a piece of duct tape over her mouth. Her eyes were wide but not panicked. She was watching Richard like she was trying to figure him out, like he was a recipe she was reverse-engineering.
"Nora." Richard smiled. "Thank you for coming. Please, close the door. We wouldn't want to disturb the neighbors."
I closed the door. Kept my hand on the knob. "Let her go."
"In a moment. First, we need to talk."
"We have nothing to talk about."
"Oh, I think we do." He gestured at the couch. "Sit. Please. I promise I won't bite."
"I'll stand."
"Suit yourself." He leaned back, winced slightly. "Your FBI friend has decent aim. I'll give her that. Though I must say, shooting an unarmed man seems a bit excessive, wouldn't you agree?"
"You were threatening Daniel."
"Was I?" He tilted his head. "Or was I simply telling the truth? About Sarah, about the accident, about all the things my nephew has been hiding from you?" He smiled. "You're welcome, by the way. For the honesty. I know Daniel struggles with that."
"What do you want?"
"What I've always wanted. Loyalty. Family. The things that matter." He looked at my mother. "Your mother understands. Don't you, Mrs. Chen? You know what it's like to sacrifice everything for family. To make hard choices. To do whatever it takes to protect the people you love."
My mother made a muffled sound behind the tape. Richard ignored her.
"I looked into you, Nora. After our first meeting. Did you know that?" He pulled out his phone, scrolled through something. "Impressive résumé. Culinary Institute of America, top of your class. Apprenticeship at Le Bernardin. Job offers from three Michelin-starred restaurants. And then—" He looked up. "Then your parents' restaurant failed and you came home to help. Gave up everything. Your career, your dreams, your—" He paused. "Your future. All for family."
"Let her go."
"I'm trying to help you see that we're not so different, you and I. We both understand sacrifice. We both understand that sometimes you have to make difficult choices for the greater good." He set down his phone. "Daniel doesn't understand that. He's too soft. Too sentimental. He thinks he can save everyone, fix everything, somehow make up for his mistakes by throwing money at them."
"He's trying to be better than you."
"Is he?" Richard laughed. "Or is he just trying to assuage his guilt? Tell me, Nora—do you really think those lunch boxes were about you? Do you really think he cared about your little catering business?" He leaned forward. "He was using you. Just like he used Sarah. Just like he uses everyone who gets close to him. That's what Parks do. We use people. We take what we need and we move on."
"You're wrong."
"Am I?" He stood slowly, favoring his injured shoulder. "Then why didn't he tell you about Sarah? Why did he hide it for months while he was—what? Falling in love with you? Building a relationship? Planning a future?" He moved closer. "He didn't tell you because he knew you'd see him for what he really is. A coward. A man who runs from his mistakes instead of facing them."
"Stop."
"The truth hurts, doesn't it?" He was right in front of me now. "But here's the thing, Nora. I can make this all go away. The FBI investigation, the charges, the—" He gestured vaguely. "Unpleasantness. I have lawyers, resources, connections. I can make it so your mother never has to worry about me again. So you never have to look over your shoulder. So you can go back to your little catering business and your little life and forget any of this ever happened."
"In exchange for what?"
"Testify that Daniel knew about the wire. That he helped you plan it. That he—" Richard smiled. "That he was working with the FBI all along to bring me down."
My stomach dropped. "That's not true."
"Isn't it?" He pulled out another phone—not his, I realized. Daniel's. "I took this from his apartment while you two were busy having your little moment. Interesting reading. All those messages to Morrison. All those—" He scrolled. "Conversations about evidence and testimony and building a case." He looked up. "He's been playing both sides, Nora. Using you to get to me. Using me to—" He stopped. "Well. I'm not entirely sure what his endgame was. But I'm sure it wasn't love."
"You're lying."
"Am I?" He held out the phone. "See for yourself."
I didn't take it. Couldn't. Because if I looked, if I saw those messages, if they were real—
The door burst open. Daniel stood there, breathing hard, Morrison and three other agents behind him. He took in the scene—Richard with the phone, me frozen, my mother on the couch—and something in his expression cracked.
"Uncle," he said quietly. "Let them go."
"Ah, nephew." Richard pocketed the phone. "Right on time. We were just discussing your relationship with the FBI. Care to explain these messages?"
Daniel's eyes met mine. And in that moment, in that single look, I saw—