That did not erase the ballroom.
Both could be true.
Margaret said:
“When Arthur said your mother’s name, I recognized it.”
“From my father’s papers.”
“Not immediately.”
“Later.”
Naomi asked:
“Why didn’t your father tell you?”
Margaret smiled sadly.
“Perhaps because he was ashamed of how little he did.”
Naomi looked at her.
“Or proud of what he managed.”
“Maybe both.”
Margaret stared at her coffee.
Then:
“I owe you an apology.”
Naomi waited.
“Not because you turned out to own twenty-four percent.”
Good.
Margaret understood at least that.
“I treated uncertainty like threat.”
“I used my position to force certainty.”
“I made Daniel enforce my discomfort.”
“I took your folder.”
“I should not have.”
Naomi nodded.
Margaret continued:
“And the word theatrics.”
She looked embarrassed.
“That was cruel.”
“Yes.”
“I told myself I was referring to the dog and clothing.”
Naomi waited.
Margaret looked up.
“I don't know whether I believe that anymore.”
Naomi appreciated the sentence.
Not a perfect confession.
An honest uncertainty.
They sat silently.
Then Margaret asked:
“Do you want my resignation?”
Naomi answered:
“I want you to decide whether you can lead differently.”
Margaret frowned.
“That sounds evasive.”
“It is not my job to decide whether you are capable of change.”
“That is yours.”
Margaret leaned back.
For the first time since they met, she smiled genuinely.
“You're harder than your mother.”
Naomi froze.
“You knew her?”
Margaret’s expression changed.
“I met her once.”
Naomi stared.
“When?”
“I was twenty-one.”
“My father brought me to a reception.”
“She was there.”
“You remember?”
Margaret nodded.
“She wore red.”
Of course she did.
Evelyn loved red.
Margaret continued:
“I asked my father who she was.”
“He said, ‘The smartest investor in the room.’”
Naomi’s throat tightened.
“Why didn't you tell me that before?”
“I didn't realize until later that Evelyn Carter was your mother.”
Naomi looked toward the window.
Her mother had spent years trying to protect Naomi from bitterness.
Maybe too successfully.
Evelyn rarely discussed Meridian.
She told Naomi that some doors were not worth fighting to enter.
Naomi now understood why.
Margaret said:
“I’m sorry.”
This time Naomi did not know which part she meant.
Perhaps all of it.
The review changed Meridian.
Slowly.
Public founder history was corrected.
Not with a tiny footnote.
A full archive.
Evelyn Carter’s photograph.
Capital contribution.
Letters.
Trust structure.
Conflict.
No sanitized heroic rewrite.
Naomi insisted.
“Do not turn my mother into a saint because the institution treated her badly.”
Historians appreciated that.
Evelyn could be ruthless.
She had once forced a competitor into bankruptcy during a shipping-rate war.
She fired executives quickly.
She made money aggressively.
She also financed scholarships.
Paid employees during downturns.
Supported Naomi alone after divorce.