Chapter 12 - The People Behind the Numbers
Lauren visited the brownstone on a cold Thursday with permission from its director.
She had attended fundraising dinners for the building. She had smiled beside oversized checks. Until that afternoon, she had never climbed to the third floor.
A little boy's sneakers sat outside one apartment. Someone had taped paper stars to a cracked hallway mirror.
Downstairs, a woman named Ruth folded donated coats.
“You're Mr. Ellis's daughter,” she said.
Lauren nodded. Her father's name still sounded safe in other people's mouths.
“He fixed the back steps himself,” Ruth said. “Complained about the contractor the whole time.”
Lauren laughed, then had to look away.
“I'm sorry I haven't been here.”
Ruth kept folding.
“Are you here now?”
“Yes.”
“Then take that end.”
They folded a heavy blanket together.
For an hour, nobody asked Lauren how she felt. There were coats to sort and a tenant whose heater needed attention. Useful work steadied her more than reassurance had.
In the director's office, the board's accountant explained the problem. The building had value, but its reserves had been drained. A lender had given the trustees a short extension while they sought a workable plan.
The missing money couldn't be wished back.
Lauren called Daniel's lawyer, not Daniel, and asked whether the new financial review might locate recoverable assets.
It was already underway.
Days later, bank records connected Northlight payments to Cole's personal spending and several accounts investigators were examining. Recovery would take time. Some money was gone for good.
The trustees began talking to a nonprofit housing group about a purchase that would preserve the apartments. They also needed a temporary operating fund.
Lauren had one valuable thing she could sell without asking Cole.
Her mother's sapphire bracelet, left to her years before the marriage.
She took it to an established dealer and sat through the appraisal with an ache beneath her ribs.
Maya confirmed how to document the sale and donation separately from the divorce.
The proceeds wouldn't save the building alone. They would help keep it operating while the trustees worked.
That night, Lauren opened the empty bracelet box.
Under its velvet insert lay a photograph of her parents.
She let herself cry for the bracelet, for them, for all the things she should have done sooner.
May you like
Then the board sent the terms of Cole's proposed rescue loan.
In exchange, he wanted full control of the building.
