Chapter 23 - The Halcyon Ballroom
Forty years of Aurelia.
The ballroom looked different.
Lower chandeliers.
Blue carpet.
No old champagne table.
The stage relocated.
I arrived alone.
Silver hair.
No fur stole.
My mother’s earrings.
Aurelia CEO I barely knew greeted.
“Ms. Vance.”
“Audrey.”
Then:
“Thank you for coming.”
Employees mostly too young to know story.
Good.
A display showed history.
2006 founding.
Expansion.
2026 recapitalization? The year maybe current 2026. Since current date 2026, gala story happening presumably 2026. Forty years later 2066. Fine.
It read:
2026 Northstar recapitalization stabilized balance sheet and initiated governance modernization.
No affair.
No Julian.
Perfect.
Then there was photo.
Malcolm at microphone.
Me walking stage.
Julian visible in background, mid clap.
I stared.
Archivist had permission from company photographer.
No shove.
Caption factual.
I smiled.
Then Sophie, now elderly, arrived.
Wheelchair? maybe walking cane. She was 40s then, 40 years later 80s. Could be.
“Audrey!”
We hugged.
Olivia too? She'd be old.
A small cluster.
Then the current CEO spoke about quantum? no need. Tech future.
No one mentioned scandal.
Then employee approached.
“I read oral history.”
“Sorry.”
He laughed.
“I had question.”
“Yes.”
“Did you really not tell husband you owned Northstar?”
“I told him I founded investment firm.”
“But not scale.”
“He had financial disclosure in prenup.”
The employee blinked.
“So internet version…”
“Internet likes surprise.”
He laughed.
Then:
“Did you fire him?”
“No.”
“Board did.”
“Did you own board?”
“No.”
He looked disappointed.
Reality less cinematic.
Then:
“Why did everyone say you saved company?”
“Capital helped. Management saved.”
Good.
Then the CEO announced Aurelia had created Malcolm Reed Governance Fellowship for mid career managers.
Nice.
I donated? No, board.
Then a second award named Olivia Grant Whistleblower Protection Award? Could be too much. Maybe no.
Then Sophie whispered:
“Want champagne?”
“Yes.”
We went.
I held flute.
Not engraved one.
Ordinary.
Then I noticed a woman in gold gown.
For half second memory.
Not Camilla.
Young employee.
I smiled.
Color does not belong to villain.
Then current communications director introduced herself.
Gold earrings, not mine.
No reaction.
Then dance music.
I stayed longer than needed.
At one point, someone bumped my shoulder.
“Sorry!”
I steadied.
No flashback.
“Fine.”
Then current chair asked if I wanted announcement.
I laughed.
“No.”
Then Sophie insisted we take photo by stage.
We did.
No Julian.
No Camilla.
No black folder.
Just two older women.
Then as I left, the hotel manager said:
“Ms. Vance, we found something in archive storage during renovation.”
He handed small brass plaque from old champagne table inventory? Hmm maybe too symbolic.
No.
Maybe a banquet seating card:
AUDREY VANCE
Table 12.
I laughed.
Not needed.
Could be unnatural. Let's skip.
I walked out.
No need souvenir.
Then outside I looked at Halcyon sign.
Forty years earlier, Julian told me go home.
I had stayed.
But the deeper truth was that staying did not define me anymore.
I had left him.
Left Aurelia board.
Left Northstar management.
Left Boston office.
Power included leaving too.
Then I went home.
May you like
My home.
No one waiting to assign place.
