Chapter 9
Daniel sat.
“That depends on what you say.”
A faint smile crossed Samuel's face.
“Thomas would have liked you.”
Hearing my father's name from him made something tighten in my chest.
“Why did my father trust you?” I asked.
Samuel didn't answer immediately.
A waitress brought coffee.
He waited until she left.
“Because I was his oldest friend.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“We met at Westbridge in 1978. Your father was studying physics. I was studying medicine before switching into medical administration. We shared an apartment for one disastrous year.”
I tried to imagine my meticulous father at twenty-one.
“Dad never told me.”
“He probably spared you the stories.”
“That's not what I meant.”
Samuel folded his hands.
“No.”
There was sorrow in that single word.
“He didn't tell you because we had a falling-out.”
“Over what?”
“Over your company.”
The answer stunned me.
Samuel looked through the window for a moment.
“When Thomas brought your research to me, I thought it was extraordinary. I also thought you and Jason were completely unprepared to commercialize it.”
“That part may have been true.”
“It was. But I made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“I trusted Jason's instincts more than yours.”
I leaned back.
Samuel continued.
“Jason could speak to investors. He understood pricing, distribution, regulatory strategy. You wanted another eighteen months of testing before launch.”
“We needed it.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
He accepted the correction with a nod.
“Yes.”
Daniel opened his notebook.
“Dr. Whitmore, did Thomas Bennett provide you with documents establishing Iris's ownership interest in ARIA?”
“Yes.”
“Do you still have them?”
Another pause.
“Yes.”
The word seemed to change the temperature of the room.
“Where?”
“In a secure archival facility attached to my foundation.”
I stared at him.
“You had them for ten years.”
“Yes.”
“And said nothing.”
“I had reasons.”
“So did everyone.”
My voice rose slightly.
Daniel didn't stop me.
Neither did Samuel.
I leaned forward.
“Jason had reasons. My father had reasons. My mother had reasons. Now you have reasons. Everyone has spent ten years deciding what I should know about my own life.”
Samuel's expression folded inward.
“You're right.”
The simplicity of the answer disarmed me.
I had expected an argument.
“I don't want to be right,” I said.
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
Samuel removed his glasses.
“When Thomas gave me the documents, the company was close to collapsing. Jason had taken loans. Your medical expenses were substantial. Two investors had already withdrawn after learning about the prototype accident.”