"Claire," he said. "Will you come with me?"
Vanessa turned on him. "*Derek.*"
He didn't look at her. I almost said no. But I thought about the engineers who'd worked every weekend, the assistants who knew everything and said nothing, the developers who believed in the product and not the mess surrounding it. And I thought about my grandfather, who hadn't come here to burn Derek's life down — only because I'd asked him to notarize the papers quietly, with someone I trusted in the room.
"I'll come," I said. "But not as your wife. And not as your shield."
Derek nodded once.
The three of us walked back to the conference room — which wasn't empty anymore. Six investors sat around the table. Two Nexora executives hovered near the screen with nervous smiles. Walter sat at the head of the table, tweed jacket even more out of place among the tailored suits.
