Chapter 9: What Petra Built
The letter arrived on Preston's attorney's desk at 8:47 the following morning.
Petra told me this with the particular satisfaction of someone who had been up since five.
"Civil claim for the injury to Sophie, the threatening message, and the attempted witness intimidation," she said.
"I also copied the federal investigator and the estate court.
Preston's attorney called me within forty minutes."
"What did he say?"
"He said his client was prepared to discuss a resolution."
"What did you say?"
"I said we weren't interested in a resolution.
We were interested in accountability." She paused.
"He called back twenty minutes after that."
I was at my kitchen table with coffee, Sophie still asleep down the hall.
Outside, the morning was grey and ordinary, which felt appropriate.
"And?" I said.
"Preston is cooperating with the federal investigation.
Fully.
As of last night." Petra's voice was measured, but I could hear the shape of something underneath it — not quite satisfaction, but close.
"In exchange for cooperation, the federal team has agreed to consider his level of coercion when they make their recommendations.
That's not immunity.
That's just a factor."
"What about the injury to Sophie?"
"That is not part of any federal negotiation.
That is ours, and it stands entirely separately." She paused.
"His attorney has indicated Preston will not contest the civil claim."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning he will pay.
The amount is being finalized.
It will cover Sophie's medical costs, her ongoing care if she needs any, and a figure for the harm caused.
I've set the floor high enough that it will be uncomfortable."
I looked at my coffee cup.
"And the threat about the Harrington Group's regulatory panels?"
"Ros Whitfield's team pulled his communications last night.
He had contact with one person on one panel — not two, as he claimed.
That person has already been referred for a conduct review." Petra's tone was precise.
"Preston was bluffing about the second panel.
He wanted you to feel more exposed than you were."
"It almost worked."
"Almost," she said.
"But you filed the report anyway."
Sophie appeared in the kitchen doorway in her pajamas, her bandage slightly crooked from sleep, holding her stuffed rabbit by one ear.
"Is it a school day?" she asked.
"No," I said.
"Stay home today."
She climbed into the chair across from me and set the rabbit on the table between us.
"Are you still fixing it?" she asked.
"Almost done fixing it."
She nodded and reached for my coffee cup, sniffed it, made a face, and pushed it back.
"Petra," I said, "one more thing.
Margaret."
"She gave a voluntary statement to Ros's team yesterday evening.
Three hours.
She named the third parties involved in the estate scheme — the ones Preston was working with.
She had documentation." A pause.
"She'd been keeping records for four months.
Quietly."
I thought of Margaret's hand on my arm.
*You don't understand what you've walked into.*
"She was building an exit," I said.
"It looks that way.
Whether she gets one depends on what the federal team decides.
But she gave them enough to close the case against the primary actors." Petra paused.
"She also asked, through her own attorney, whether you would be willing to receive a personal communication from her.
Not legal.
Personal."
I looked at Sophie, who was now making the rabbit hop slowly across the table toward the coffee cup.
"Tell her attorney I'll think about it," I said.
"That's what I told them you'd say."
After I hung up, Sophie looked at me.
"Is it really almost done?" she asked.
"The big part is," I said.
"There will be some more steps.
But the worst is over."
She made the rabbit hop back across the table toward her side.
"Good," she said.
"Because I want things to go back to normal."
"What's normal?"
She thought about it.
"Breakfast.
School.
You picking me up.
May you like
Soup with the little pasta shapes sometimes."
"That," I said, "I can absolutely do."
