I laughed helplessly.
The situation had become too extraordinary to process.
“I was worried about paying school tuition this morning.”
Nobody answered.
“And now you’re telling me I might own part of a company I’ve never heard of?”
Eleanor nodded slowly.
“That photograph makes more sense now.”
I looked toward her.
“How?”
Daniel explained.
“Marcus wasn’t only tracking Eleanor.”
He indicated the image of the man dressed to resemble me.
“He may have been trying to connect you to her.”
“Why?”
“To create a narrative.”
I felt cold.
“What narrative?”
Claire whispered:
“That you were involved.”
The pieces began fitting together.
If Eleanor suffered a medical emergency, and confidential Halston documents appeared on my computer, and somebody produced a photograph apparently showing me meeting her before the incident, investigators might conclude I wasn’t simply a stranger who happened to help.
They might believe I was involved in a calculated scheme.
