Chapter 2 - The Message That Reached Me Just In Time
For a few seconds, nobody moved.
Everett set the glass down carefully.
His voice, when he spoke, was controlled—but sharp.
“Where did you get that video?”
I swallowed, still holding my burning cheek. “From the service security feed, sir. It came through less than a minute before I ran over.”
Marlene turned on me immediately.
“She’s lying.”
“I’m not.”
“She probably staged it herself.”
Everett looked from her to me, then to the phone again. He was older, but there was nothing slow about his mind. I could see him measuring everything at once—my fear, Marlene’s anger, the untouched wine.
“Sit down, Marlene,” he said.
“I will not sit down while some waitress accuses me of—”
“Sit. Down.”
It was the first time I saw something flash in Marlene’s eyes that wasn’t contempt.
Fear.
She lowered herself into her chair.
Everett held out his hand to me.
“Phone.”
I hesitated only a second, then gave it to him.
He watched the clip twice without blinking. Then he looked up at me.
“You recognized the decanter?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I served it.”
That answer was simple, but not complete.
What I didn’t say yet was that I had recognized more than the decanter.
I had recognized the way the liquid disappeared into the wine.
The faint swirl.
The delayed settling.
My father had taught me things like that years ago, before cancer took him and left me working double shifts to keep our apartment.
Everett handed the phone back.
“No one touches the decanter,” he said. “No one touches the glasses. And no one leaves.”
Marlene gave a thin laugh that sounded more brittle than amused.
“This is absurd.”
May you like
Everett’s gaze never left her.
“No,” he said quietly. “What would’ve happened if she’d arrived ten seconds later is what I suspect was going to be absurd.”
