“Okay.” Tisha nodded. “Then let’s try to make it right.”
“We have no evidence. If UT swept it under the rug years ago—”
“Reporting it won’t do anything.” Tisha bit into her lower lip. “I’m not sure what else, though. We might not be the best people to figure this out.”
An idea hit me. “No, we aren’t.” I let out a breathless laugh. “But you know who is?”
33
SAD, BEAUTIFUL FORTRESS GIRL
RUE
The sun was already setting, but I worried that he might still be at the office, and that not finding him might force me to reconsider what I was about to do. Thankfully, I spotted Eli as soon as I pulled up to his street.
He was unlocking his front door, but he turned around when he heard my car approach. In the dusk, his eyes widened. Then softened. I got out quickly, without bothering to collect myself, and marched to him with an outstretched hand.
Eli stared at my open palm for a long while. “What is it?”
“Take it.”
He plucked out the USB. “What’s on it?”
“You know what.”
His expression traveled from confused, to understanding, to shocked. “No.” He shook his head and tried to return it. “Rue, I didn’t tell you so that you—”
“I know. But she took it from you. From Minami. From Hark.”
“Rue.”
“And we agree that she shouldn’t have.”
“We?”
“Tisha and I.”
He stared at the USB pinched between his fingers, silent.
“If Kline is breaking the terms of the loan contract, then Harkness has the right to know. I’m not giving you any secrets. These are just . . .”
“The documents she should have handed over weeks ago?”
At least, I hoped so. I had access to Florence’s office and computer—and a healthy ignorance of financial records. But that’s what Nyota was for.
After a brief hesitation, Eli slid the USB in his pocket. “Thank you, Rue.”
“You’re welcome.” I took a deep breath. “Can I . . .”
He tilted his head.
I swallowed. “The last few days have been . . . difficult. For me. If tonight . . . if I asked you to take me in and let me stay with you, and not mention a single word about Florence, or Kline, would you—”
He opened the door before I could finish the sentence—an unequivocal invitation—and a wordless conversation passed between our locked gazes.
Can I trust you, Eli?
Always.