“Money?”

Kyle nodded, and at that moment—even sitting across from this man who he was certain only a few moments before was a rapist and a murderer, and even believing that it was all just a ruse on his part—at t hat moment he felt ashamed. A ll t he more so when t he senator laughed. But it wasn’t a mocking laugh. It was gentle, and almost appreciative.

“You can’t even spit the word out of your mouth,” he said. “Money’s not what you want, son. And you have no idea of the price you’d end up paying. Though the affidavit isn’t true, I paid to keep it quiet twice already, paid to stop it from infecting my glorious future. And I’ve regretted both acts ever since. I’m sorry, but I’m not paying again.”

“No money?”

“Nope. Sorry.”

“If it wasn’t true, why did you pay before?”

“Because I had my future to think about. Lies always stick around longer than the truth. But I’m sick of my future, sick of the price I’ve paid for it, so I’m going to think about yours. What do you want to do with your life?”

“I don’t know.”

“Isn’t it time to figure it out?”

“God, I’m getting it now from an asshole like you.”

“If I let you turn yourself into a blackmailer, that’s exactly what I would be,” said the senator. “I did that once, I won’t do it again. I’m going to tell you a story, Kyle. About an arrogant little prick and a sweet girl who loved him and that file of yours. I’m going to tell you because I’ve been wanting to tell someone for years. And I’m going to tell you because it involves your father, and I think you have the right to know.”

CHAPTER 46

ONE OF MY GREAT-GRANDFATHERS was a crony of Morgan’s,” said

Francis Truscott IV. “Another played golf with Rockefeller.” “Bully for you,” said Kyle.

“I’m not bragging here, Kyle, I’m explaining. The Truscotts were a

family of grand ambitions. My father could never live up to them, and eventually they broke him. He had once had the grandest of Truscott dreams. He was going to be a titan of industry, a poker champion, a pilot, the president, something big, something great, maybe even a race-car driver. While still a young man, he disappeared into the West to make his own way. But in his forties he returned to his dour family, with nothing to show for his time away except for a raging alcoholism and a pregnant wife. But his megalomania wasn’t completely burned out of him by his failures, he transferred all his thwarted hopes onto his only child. Me.

“How did you handle the pressure?”

“With a purposeful nonchalance. I was always the star of my sports teams, I was the class president. My grades were only adequate, but I had a confident manner and the Truscott name. By my senior year at Haverford Prep, I was already accepted into Yale. Let me tell you something, Kyle, no one feels more atop the world than a high-school kid on his way to Yale. There were girls, parties, trips to Cabo. Life was brilliant, and my future, the one that had been lined up for me since birth, was well on track.

“But this is a love story, first and foremost, and I found it at a homeless shelter, on Christmas Eve, where, at my mother’s shrewd request, I was helping serve dinner to the city’s least fortunate. It was something for the résumé, something to polish my image and show I could give as good as I got. I had started it two years before I applied to Yale, had featured the experience in my application essay, and I continued after my acceptance only because my mother convinced me that to stop would appear churlish. It was as I was dishing out the mashed potatoes that I noticed the girl beside me pouring the gravy.

“Blond hair, blue eyes, a slim figure, all standard enough as far as I was concerned. But there was a sweetness there, too, and an innocence, two traits sorely lacking in the girls I dated. I almost believed that she was at the shelter because she wanted to do good for others, not for herself. The idea was so foreign to a Truscott as to be revolutionary.

“That was Colleen O’Malley.

“I didn’t think she would be much of a challenge, and truthfully, she wasn’t. She was swept away by my charm, my ease, maybe even my money, as I arrogantly expected she would be. But it wasn’t long before I was swept away, too. It was her unaffected goodness, her purity of intention, the way she stared at me with so much love. Looking into Colleen O’Malley’s eyes was like peering out of a tunnel and catching a glimpse of transcendent sunlight in an otherwise dark, monochromatic world.

“We dated in secret—neither of our sets of parents would have approved, she was poor, and I wasn’t Catholic—and we fell in love in secret, and we made love in secret. But sex with Colleen wasn’t about getting something, a piece or an advantage or a prestigious date for Saturday night, it was about giving, not just pleasure but the whole of ourselves, one to the other, together. One heart, one breath, our souls twining together like the braided candles stuck in the silver holders in the dining room at our estate, the ones that burn down so prettily until they are mere sputtering heaps of blackened wax. Like the pair that was lit one evening when I was summoned to that very dining room by my mother.

“ ‘Francis,’ said my mother, sitting at the head of the table, her mouth pursed like the painting of my father’s mother on the wall above her. She was eating her dinner alone. A bowl of consommé. My father was away at the club, where he would spend the night after another evening of hard drinking, as had become his custom. ‘We need to talk about this nonsense with the O’Malley girl.’

“ ‘How do you know about her?’

“ ‘Francis, dear, we are your parents. It is our job to know.’ She lifted the spoon to her lips, lapped up the broth like one of her prized Burmese. ‘Now it is time for you to prepare for Yale. You need to concentrate on getting ready, not on dillydallying in the sun. And it is not fair to string that young girl along through the summer. It is time to end it.’

“ ‘I’m not stringing her along.’

“ ‘Francis, please. She goes to a Catholic school in Darby.’

“ ‘She’s different from the other girls I’ve dated.’

“ ‘I know she is, dear. The exotic young Catholic-school girl with her plaid skirt and saddle shoes. It is a ready-made fantasy for a young boy. Trust me, I know.’ She lifted the spoon to her lips. Lap, lap. ‘Which is why we didn’t stop it when it first broke out. But it has grown beyond what is tolerable. Now we’ve already spoken to the O’Malleys, and they are fully in agreement.’

“ ‘What did you do? What the hell did you do, Mother?’

“ ‘Watch your tone.’ Lap, lap. ‘Francis, they have plans for their daughter, just as we have plans for you. And she is rather young.’

“ ‘You had no right.’

“ ‘You didn’t say that when we promised a wing for that science building at the university. And you’ll happily accept our tuition payments and the money you’ll need to live in New Haven in the style you’ve grown accustomed to here. So, dear, I think we have every right to ask that you respect our wishes when it comes to this one minor matter.’