Page 160 of Grim
He sighs exaggeratedly and then explains, “There’s no merger, Ms. Sinclair.” He says bluntly, “You’re still just dead.”
I close my eyes and count to three. “Soft landing, Kane. Real soft.”
“They’ve taken my blade, Rue. Now all I have left is my cutting frankness.”
Before I have a chance to respond, Katherine’s voice pitches up, and she moves closer to Kane. “Wait. Do I know you? You look familiar.”
“We met a while ago, Ms. Sinclair. I was tasked with helping you cross over to the OtherWorld, but you were reluctant.”
“Yes. I remember. It’s fuzzy, but yes.”
“Did you ever finish that turkey sandwich?” Kane asks more smugly than I might have liked.
The stricken expression that paints itself across the media mogul’s face lets me know that awareness has sunk in.
“Your time to affect change in this plane has come to an end. I’m very sorry,” I tell her gently.
She turns to me. “I built this company from the ground up. Over two decades of my life was devoted to this enterprise. My first love, my longest love. My desire to become a mother didn’t happen until I was almost thirty years old, but I’ve wanted to tell stories since I was a little girl.”
Kane looks on, attentive and somber. I lock eyes with him, silently willing him to give Katherine the permission she needs.
His mouth softens at the edges and he turns to her. “It’s time to tell your story, Ms. Sinclair. We are listening.”
She sighs, her spectral form coming to stillness for the first time since we arrived. “My ambition was always my largest appetite. No matter how much I fed it, it never seemed sated. When I was a girl, I wanted to sing. I wanted to act. I wanted to perform. By the time I reached my twenties, the writing was on the wall. I was not good enough. Simple as that. It wasn’t the thing I was put on this planet to do. It wasn’t mywhy. You know?”
“But you found yourwhy, didn’t you?”
Her face lights up. “I did. I had a friend who was so talented. She had everything. The looks, the drive, that intangibleitfactor. We would audition opposite each other constantly. She would hit on occasion. I never would. I was frustrated that my own career wasn’t taking off, but I simply didn’t have the talent. She deserved to make it, and it just wasn’t happening.Finally, I said to myself,the world can ignore her gift, but I won’t. I spent the next six months working with her on a one-woman show. I produced it, directed it, and promoted it for her. She performed, and I made sure the world watched.
“We became so close. Friends. Business and creative partners. We were unstoppable. Then I got an offer to show run a new series with this hot young writer. I made my deal contingent on the team casting Lizzy in the pilot. But when they balked, I turned my back on her and went on without her. She never spoke to me again. Twenty-two years.”
A silence falls over the room that feels as long as the one that descended on her friendship.
“So, it’s not the business.” It’s a statement, not a question. Kane puts the pieces together out loud. “It’sregret. You miss your friend. You never got reconciliation for that perceived betrayal.”
“I built my own media network. Twenty-four hours of programming a day for two decades. I sent so many straight offers to her agent. She rejected every single one.” Katherine huffs out a beleaguered sigh. “She would never let me forget.”
There’s a pause that neither of us fills because it feels like Katherine has more to share. She does.
“And now I’m the one who will be forgotten. If I leave this place, no one will remember me.”
“That’s not true. Diane in Accounting made a down payment on her first home from the money she makes working for your company. Jack Pendleton—”
“I don’t know who that is,” Katherine cuts me off.
“But he knows you. He’s a new hire, and when he told his parents that he was working for your company, his parents beamed with pride and said how happy they were to see their child pursuing his passion and building a name for himself.”
Katherine’s expression still holds a defensive edge to it. “And what happens when I leave? What if it all crumbles? What if it all ends?”
“It will. Eventually,” Kane answers darkly. “Everything ends, Katherine, and we are all forgotten. All of us.”
“Is that helping?” I ask quietly.
“And that’s okay,” he continues without acknowledging me. “It is inevitable. We can fight an unwinnable battle against our own impermanence, or we can face our own minuscule place against the backdrop of time and celebrate the moments that matter for as long as they matter.”
“But was it worth it? To lose one of the best friends I ever had?”
“You’ll have plenty of time to wrestle with that question, I promise. Whether it’s right or it’s wrong isn’t nearly as important as the fact that itis.Accept it and move on.”
