. CHAPTER 8 — The Investor Tour
The investor tour had been scheduled for four o’clock.
By three-thirty, the entrance of Kober Tower looked like a crime scene because it was one. Yellow tape blocked the doors. Firefighters secured the dangling cables. Police photographed the crater from every angle. News reporters spoke in urgent tones beside vans with raised antennas.
And across the street, a group of investors stood watching their future profits become evidence.
Richard Whitmore tried to reach them before the cameras did.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, smoothing his tie, “today’s incident appears to involve an unpredictable mechanical failure, but I assure you—”
Emily stepped into his path.
She did not plan it. She simply moved. Her fear had burned away, leaving something harder.
“My mother and I were standing under that unit,” she said. “Your office received written warnings. You delayed repairs for this tour.”
The investors looked from Emily to the crater.
Whitmore forced a smile. “Ms. Hart is understandably emotional.”
Caleb stepped up beside her, not touching her, just close enough that she no longer stood alone.
Detective Lorne held up the folder. “We have maintenance records confirming delay of repair pending investor presentation.”
A man in a charcoal suit removed his glasses. “Richard, is that true?”
Whitmore’s face flushed. “There is context.”
“There’s always context,” Caleb said. “Usually someone else’s body.”
The words cut through the crowd.
Emily looked at him, and in that moment understood why Caleb had run without thinking. He had not been trying to be brave. He had been refusing to watch the same story repeat.
One of the investors turned away from Whitmore. Another made a call. A third demanded copies of the reports. The empire of calm language and polished marble began cracking faster than the sidewalk.
Whitmore’s assistant approached Detective Lorne with shaking hands. “There are more emails,” she whispered. “Not just this unit.”
Whitmore spun around. “Claire.”
The assistant flinched, then lifted her chin. “Three balcony railings, two roof anchors, and the west facade panel. All postponed.”
The reporters heard enough.
Questions erupted.
Whitmore backed toward the building, but two officers moved into his path. His power, which had seemed so permanent inside those glass walls, suddenly looked small under open sky.
Emily’s mother squeezed Caleb’s arm. “You saved us.”
May you like
Caleb looked at the tower, not at the cameras.
“I was just close enough this time.”
