Episode 3:The Best Friend
1039 Words
The silver star on the Mercedes hood pointed straight at Austin’s front door.
Bernard watched the house, the engine idling in a low, expensive hum.
His phone vibrated on the console.
I can’t do this today, the text from Daniella read. He’s having a bad morning.
Bernard didn't type back. He didn't like being told "no" by a woman he’d bought a four-thousand-dollar silk dress for two nights ago.
He killed the engine, stepped out, and checked his reflection in the window. He looked like the perfect partner.
The front door was unlocked. It usually was. Austin’s sense of security hadn't yet caught up to his new reality.
The kitchen smelled of burnt toast and something clinical. Daniella was at the counter, her back to him, shoulders pulled tight toward her ears.
"You should check the locks," Bernard said.
Daniella spun around, nearly dropping a coffee mug. "God, Bernard. I told you—not now."
Bernard brushed past her, his shoulder catching hers just enough to throw her off balance. He didn't look at her as he yanked open the silverware drawer, the metal clattering loudly in the quiet kitchen.
"The bank wants the Meridian papers signed by noon," he said, digging through the drawer until he found a spoon. He held it up like a trophy, then shoved it into his coffee mug. "They don't give a damn about his 'bad morning,' Dani. And neither do I.
"He's upstairs, Bernard. He hasn't even eaten yet."Daniella’s eyes kept darting toward the hallway, her voice barely a breath. "He’s asking about the SUV again. He wants to know why the insurance check hasn't been cleared."
Bernard didn't look up. He just kept stirring his coffee, the spoon hitting the side of the mug with a sharp, annoying rhythm. He let the silence stretch until Daniella shifted her weight.
"And?" he finally asked.
"And I don't know what to tell him!"
"You tell him the paperwork is backed up."
Bernard stopped stirring and leaned in, dropping his voice so low she had to strain to hear. "The insurance company isn't the problem, Dani. Your face is the problem. Stop looking like you’ve committed a crime, and he'll stop asking questions.”
He didn't wait for her to respond. He took the stairs two at a time.
The study was dark. Austin was a slumped shape in the wingback chair, face turned toward a window he couldn't see.
"Bernie?"
"It’s me." Bernard dropped a heavy folder onto the desk. Thud. "You look like hell, Austin."
Austin’s mouth twitched. "I can’t even tell if my eyes are open. Why are you here so early? I smell the briefcase."
"Meridian is stalling. The city is pulling our permits." Bernard snapped the latches open—clack, clack. He pulled out the Power of Attorney form and slid it under Austin’s hand. "I need your signature to fix the filings. Now."
Austin rubbed his temples. "Can't it wait? My head is a vice."
"If we wait, we lose the loan." Bernard pressed a pen into Austin's trembling fingers. "Sign here, then you can go back to sleep.”
Austin fumbled with the pen, the tip scratching blindly at the desk. "Where’s the line?"
"Right here." Bernard gripped Austin’s wrist, forcing the pen onto the paper. He felt the man’s hand shaking. "Just a scrawl, I’ll witness it."
Austin signed, the ink trailing off the edge of the page. "Is it even on the paper?"
"Perfect," Bernard said, yanking the sheet away and sliding the next one forward.
One more. This protects your shares while you're out."
Austin paused, the pen dead in the air.
“The doctor called Bernie. About the Zurich trial, Stem cells.”
Bernard stopped moving. "I heard."
"Daniella’s scared of the risks," Austin said, turning his head toward Bernard’s voice, But if I can see again... I could actually read what I’m signing, right?
Daniella thinks it's too risky. She’s worried about the infection rates they mentioned. Austin turned his sightless eyes toward Bernard. "What do you think? “
Bernard leaned back, crossing his arms. Honestly? Zurich is a long way to go for a ten percent chance, Austin. If they mess up the ocular nerve, the headaches won't just be bad. They'll be permanent.
"But if it works..."
"If it works, you’re a miracle. If it doesn't, you're a vegetable.” Bernard stood up, clicking his briefcase shut. Take some time. Don't let hope make you reckless. You’ve got too much to lose.
"Yeah," Austin whispered, leaning his head back. "I guess I do."
Bernard went downstairs. Daniella was waiting at the foot of the steps. He didn't say a word; he just grabbed her wrist and led her into the mudroom, shutting the door.
He's thinking about Zurich, Bernard said.
I tried to talk him out of it, she hissed, pulling her arm away. "He's obsessed."
Bernard leaned into her, his face inches from hers. "You like this house, Dani? You like the accounts I set up for you?"
She bit her lip, her eyes darting. "You know I do."
"Then keep him in the dark. Literally."
Bernard drove to a gravel lot behind a shuttered warehouse. A man in a grease-stained hoodie was leaning against a rusted sedan, waiting.
A detective stopped by, the man said. He didn't look at Bernard; he kept his eyes on the envelope in Bernard’s hand. He was asking about the SUV. Specifically the brake lines.
Bernard didn't blink. "And?"
"I told him the wreck was already crushed and sold for scrap." The man took the envelope, flicking through the cash. But he didn't look like he believed me. He’s going to come back with a warrant for my logs.
"He won't find you there," Bernard said. He looked at his watch, his voice going flat. "Call that friend of yours. The one who handles things quietly."
The man squinted, "You want another 'accident'? I thought the car was enough.
"The car failed," Bernard said, and now the blind guy is starting to ask the wrong questions. “Finish it tonight.”
- Writer
