Chapter 15 - The Unopened Door
By October, another firm had the housing project moving, and every worker had been repaid with interest. Daniel took a salaried design job in Milwaukee and signed a five-year repayment plan. His license remained under review, but the board chose supervision over exclusion. We spoke every Thursday. Our calls were polite and short. He mentioned zoning meetings. I mentioned the maple split by the first storm. Neither of us mentioned Vanessa. She left Illinois for a Minneapolis hotel job after sending apologies to every employee she mistreated. Laurel returned hers unopened. Owen kept his in a drawer. I read mine twice and placed it beneath the recorder I had never played for anyone. Exposure no longer felt righteous. Reed established an employee council, payroll oversight, and a rule barring family supervision of staff. I resigned from the personnel committee. Accountability cost me authority. The mansion grew quieter. Staff used the front staircase. Laurel sat at the kitchen table during breaks. No one called the service corridor downstairs. On the first cold Sunday, I carried the dented silver tray into the sunroom. I poured two coffees and set out fresh toast. Then I moved the second cup from my side of the table to the chair facing the service path. The second cup steamed beside the untouched recorder, one object meant to expose people and the other still asking them to return. Outside, Daniel's rented car slowed at the gate. I unlocked the sunroom door, but did not open it.
