The flight from London to Milan was two hours.
He sat in economy because the booking had been made in a hurry and because the woman who paid for it had not been thinking about his comfort.
She had been thinking about speed.
He didn’t mind.
He thought about the call.
Four words.
It’s time, Marcus.
Then he had packed a bag.
Some doors, once opened, were very difficult to close.
He had opened this particular door six years ago and it had never fully shut since.
He had told himself it was finished.
He had told himself it was done and that the money he had taken and the thing he had done with it was history.
But Jane had called him again, and here he was.
********
Jane opened the hotel room door herself.
She had sent the staff away for the afternoon.
No housekeeping, no room service, nobody in the corridor she didn’t know.
She stood aside to let him in and he walked past her and she closed the door and that was the greeting.
“Sit down,” she said.
He sat.
She remained standing.
She poured herself water from the bottle on the desk and did not offer him any and he didn’t ask.
“So, how much do you know?” she said.
“About the boy?” He looked at his hands.
“Enough.”
”Tell me what enough means.”
”It means I know who his mother is, Evelyn.
I did some research last night.
I know how old he is.” He looked up at her.
“Good.
Then I don’t need to explain the situation.”
”No.”
She set the glass down.
“I need you to access the boy’s medical file,” she said.
“His treatment plan specifically.
Appointments, medication schedules, any upcoming reviews.”
Marcus said nothing.
“I need to know what’s happening with his treatment and I need the ability to — redirect things.
If necessary.
Delay certain processes.
Create gaps in the administrative timeline.”
”You want to interfere with a child’s medical care, Jane,” he said.
“I only want to manage a situation,” she said.
“The semantics are yours.”
He looked at her.
She looked back.
Neither of them looked away.
“The hospital,” he said.
“Which ward?”
”Paediatric.
Necker hospital.
The boy’s name is Leon Cole.”
”Security on the records?”
”Standard for a paediatric ward.
Nothing unusual.”
”I’ll need access from the inside.
Someone on staff.”
”I assumed.
That’s your department.”
He nodded slowly.
“Specifically.”
”The objective is that certain things do not happen at the pace they are supposed to happen.” Her voice was very even.
“Treatment reviews should get delayed.
Updates get lost.
The administrative process slows down.” She paused.
“The boy’s condition is hereditary.
The doctors have been requesting paternal medical history.
I need that request to go nowhere.”
”For how long?”
”Long enough.”
He asked about the administrator access points, about the hospital’s internal system, about timing.
She answered each one.
He made a note in his phone.
“I’ll need two days to find the right person,” he said.
“You have one.”
He looked at her.
“One day,” she confirmed.
He stood up.
He put his phone in his pocket.
He buttoned his jacket.
“Jane ,” he said pulling her close to him at the door.
She looked at him.
“Don’t,” she said quietly and he let her go and left.
**********
The next morning Aidan was at his desk by eight.
Priya came in at eight thirty with her tablet and stopped when she saw his face.
“You look different this morning sir” she said.
“I slept,”
”How many hours?”
”Enough.” He turned the laptop toward her.
“I’ve been pulling records.
Old files from six years ago — my IPO period.
Communications, financial records, anything that touched the deal and the people around it.” He paused.
“I’m going to find out what really happened.”
Priya sat down slowly.
“Someone set it up, I guess.
I’ve suspected that for a while.
I just —” He stopped.
“I needed to be ready to know who.”
Priya looked at him.
She set her tablet down.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
“Not professionally.”
”Go ahead.”
”What actually happened six years ago?
Between you and Ms Cole.” She held up a hand.
“I know you were married.
I know it ended.
I know it ended badly….but I don’t know what happened.” She paused.
“And I mean, you don’t have to tell me.
But I think it might help to say it out loud to someone for once.”
He looked at her for a moment.
Then he told her.
Not all of it.
But the shape of it — the photographs, the night, the way Marcus had put them in his hands and he had taken them without asking a single question.
The way Evelyn had walked out and he had watched her go and had told himself that what he felt was justified.
Priya listened without interrupting.
“I betrayed her,” he said vulnerably.
“That’s the honest word for it.
I ..betrayed her and I didn’t even —” He stopped.
“I don’t know why.
thought about it for these past years and I still don’t have a good answer for why I let her down.” He looked at the table.
“She was everything and I just — I decided to believe the worst of her and I didn’t question it.
Not once.”
”Why didn’t you verify?” she said.
“Why didn’t you just ask her?”
He looked up.
“The photographs.” She chose her words carefully.
“Did you ask her?
Did you even give her the chance to explain before you decided?”
He said nothing.
“Mr Aidan.”
”No,” he said.
“Why not?”
”I don’t know,” he said.
And it was the most honest thing he had said in years.
“I don’t have an answer for that.
And I’ve had six years to find it.”
”Then that’s what you have to fix.” Priya spoke.
“Not just with her.
With yourself.”
She picked up her tablet and headed out.
“I’ll help you find what you’re looking for in those records,” she said.
******”
Marcus found Carlo at lunchtime.
Carlo was twenty-six.
He worked as the Janitor on the third floor of Necker hospital, which included the paediatric unit.
He had been there for eleven months.
Marcus sat down across from him.
Carlo looked up.
Startled.
“I’m sorry–”
”Don’t be,” Marcus said.
“I’ll be brief.”
He was.
He laid it out simply with no threats, no drama, just the arithmetic of it.
Carlo looked at him.
“I don’t —” He stopped.
“What is this?”
”A conversation,” Marcus said.
“Nothing more.”
”I can’t access patient files for —”
”You have access to it, every day,” Marcus said.
“Take it like a job, you can do it!”
”I-i’m sorry”
Marcus put a number on the table.
Written on a small piece of paper, folded once.
Carlo looked at it.
He looked at Marcus, then his sandwich.
He thought about the rent that was two months behind.
“It’s just a delay,” Marcus said, with a cheeky smile.
“Seventy-two hours.
Paperwork gets delayed all the time.
You know that.”
”It’s just paperwork,” Carlo said.
Almost to himself.
“That’s all.” Marcus smiled.
Carlo picked up the piece of paper.
“I want to be clear,” Marcus said, standing up.
“Nobody gets hurt.
This is confidential.
That’s all it is.”
Carlo nodded.
He didn’t look up from the table.
Marcus left.