Chapter 18 - Echoes of the Past
The Italian bistro on Fifth Street was quiet, bathed in warm sunlight filtering through lace curtains and the rich aroma of garlic and roasted tomatoes. Ethan was already sitting at a corner booth by the window, nursing a cup of black coffee.
I slid into the vinyl booth across from him, tossing my leather jacket onto the seat beside me.
'You look different, Maya,' Ethan observed, smiling softly as he handed me a menu. 'Less like someone who spends her life hiding behind encrypted servers and more like someone who actually enjoys the sunlight.'
'It’s amazing what happens when you stop auditing corrupt billionaires and start eating actual food,' I laughed, scanning the menu. 'Though I have to admit, old habits die hard. I spent thirty minutes this morning analyzing the restaurant’s public utility bills just to see if their espresso machine was overpriced.'
Ethan chuckled, shaking his head. 'Please tell me you didn't.'
'I plead the Fifth.'
Our food arrived shortly—steaming plates of handmade pasta and fresh salad. We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the rare peace between federal cases.
'Have you heard from Claire?' Ethan asked gently, setting his fork down.
I paused, looking out the window at the bustling sidewalk outside. 'Once. A brief letter from the facility in upstate New York. She didn't ask for help, and she didn't make excuses. She just said she finally understood what it meant to own her own choices—even the catastrophic ones.'
'Do you think she’ll ever change?'
'People don't change overnight, Ethan,' I replied quietly. 'They just learn how to keep better ledgers.'
Ethan reached across the table, placing his hand over mine. His touch was warm, grounding, and steady. 'Well, whatever happens next, you don't have to audit the world alone anymore.'
May you like
I looked down at his hand, feeling a quiet warmth bloom in my chest. For years, I had believed that love was a liability, a vulnerability that men like Daniel and schemes like Claire's could exploit. But sitting there in the sunlight, I realized that some accounts couldn't be measured in numbers alone.
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