Page 63 of Glass Spinner

She fixed her eyes on the ducks bobbing in the distance. “I made a mistake.”

He waited.

“I pushed someone away because I was scared. And now I don’t know if I can fix it.”

John nodded slowly. “Then try. If it doesn’t work, you’ll learn from it. That’s all any of us can do.”

She was quiet for a long time before she said, “Did you ever think you’d lose mom?”

He turned to look at her. “I did once during a stupid argument. I said something cruel, she got in the car, and left. I thought that was it. Turns out she’d driven to the florist down the road to cool off.”

Kathleen gave a tearful laugh.

John bumped her shoulder gently. “Sometimes love is about staying through the awful bits, and often it’s about walking away when you’re not ready to. But either way, it teaches you something.”

They stood watching the dusk settle over the sanctuary, the air turning crisp and clean. When a heron flew low across the water, its wings nearly brushing the surface, Kathleen closed her eyes and let the ache in her chest loosen—a little.

“Can we stay a bit longer?” she asked.

John wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “As long as you want, kiddo.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Marise spent the morning researching Com Co Cleaning Services.

They had a solid reputation: ISO-certified, background-checked staff, and an office in Long Island City. These weren’t shady subcontractors she could bribe for information; if she wanted a name, she needed to be clever about it.

She dressed in tailored black pants, sensible flats, and a plain grey coat to visit their office. No perfume, no glamour, hair in a bun, and a pair of black rimmed glasses completed the look of an HR consultant who billed by the hour. Her alias this time was Lauren Manley, compliance officer for Occupational Safety and Health.

When she stated her business, the receptionist led her to an office at the back. She knocked on the door and poked her head in. “There’s a lady to see you, Mrs Hill. She’s from OSHA.”

“Send her in.”

Hill glanced up when Marise approached the desk. “I’m Ellen Hill. What can I do for you?”

Marise handed over the ID credentials she forged, and said with a no-nonsense tone, “We are undergoing a safety audit forthe restricted floor at the Atlantic Research Institute. I believe Com Co’s responsible for the nighttime lab cleans?”

Hill frowned, clearly put out. “We are, yes. Is there a problem?”

Marise gave her a reassuring smile. “There’s no need to worry. This is a routine compliance inspection we conduct yearly. Your firm has been chosen for an audit. Have you ever been audited?”

“No. What does it entail? I’m very busy at the moment.”

Marise looked down at the mess of papers on the desk. “I understand. I have a few questions, and then I’ll undertake an on-site inspection.”

Hill sighed and gestured to a chair. “Sit down, Lauren. I’ll give you ten minutes.”

“This won’t take long,” Marise assured her, taking out her notebook and a pen. “Are you allotted secure night parking.”

“Yes. The institute’s basement is protected by automatic gates. Our employees have keycards for remote control access, and it has CCTV Surveillance.”

Marise kept her tone professional. “Who’s on the current roster for that site?”

The woman hesitated, but slightly. The request was routine enough. “That’d be Lena Forde. She does the secure zones and flagged areas—Class 2 and up.”

“She uses the parking facility?”

“Yes, she drives from her home in Kips Bay.”