Chapter 5
Dominic’s brows drew together.
“The trustees?”
Richard did not answer him.
He guided me across the ballroom.
My heartbeat had become loud enough to hear.
“What trustees?” I whispered.
“The Mercer Foundation board.”
“Why are they waiting for me?”
“You’ll find out in a few minutes.”
“Richard.”
He stopped beside a table near the stage.
Several people stood as we approached, including the foundation’s chairwoman, Margaret Liu, whom I had met years earlier during the riverfront project. She hugged me with genuine warmth.
“Evelyn, I’m so glad you came.”
I smiled, though my confusion was growing.
“Why is everyone acting as though I’m expected?”
Margaret looked at Richard.
He nodded once.
She turned back to me.
“Because you are.”
Before I could ask what she meant, the orchestra ended its piece. The ballroom quieted as the evening’s host stepped onto the stage and tapped the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention?”
Guests turned toward the platform.
Dominic remained near the bar. Vanessa stood beside him, but her attention was fixed on the stage.
The host spoke about the foundation’s work throughout the city: affordable housing, education grants, neighborhood clinics, and small-business development.
Then he announced that this year’s Meridian Civic Leadership Award would honor an individual whose work had shaped Chicago without seeking recognition.
My hands went cold.
The screen behind him illuminated.
A photograph appeared.
It showed a renovated brick warehouse beside the river, sunlight shining through tall windows. I recognized it immediately.
The Harbor House Learning Center.
The first project Richard and I had designed together.
The audience applauded.
I barely heard them.
The host continued.
“Tonight, we recognize the strategist whose original framework became the foundation for the Mercer Renewal Initiative, the Harbor House program, and the city’s current small-business corridor model.”
Another photograph appeared, this one of a much younger woman standing beside a folding table covered in maps.
My hair had been shorter then.
My face was thinner.
But there was no mistaking me.
The image had been taken before I met Dominic.
Before I learned to hide.
The room seemed to tilt.
Richard leaned closer.
“You should have been honored fifteen years ago.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I wanted you to choose freely.”
“I would have said no.”
“I know.”
The host spoke my name.
“Please welcome Evelyn Hart Vale.”
The audience began to applaud.
Not politely.
Warmly.
I looked at Richard.