CHAPTER FOURTEEN — NO MORE GHOSTS
By early evening, the Wren’s front doors had become a battlefield of polite voices.
Sponsors demanded explanations, ticket holders waited behind temporary barriers, and a television crew filmed the arriving Bentley.
Martin’s office had distributed a statement claiming the memorial was delayed by minor technical adjustments.
Claire refused to approve the wording.
“An equipment failure nearly injured a worker,” she told him.
“That is not minor.”
Martin stood beside a table crowded with unopened flower arrangements.
“You are determined to ruin our family in public.”
“You did the damage when you told people our mother had said things she never said.”
“I built a company that could keep her legacy alive.”
“You built a company that needed her to sell its first product.”
He walked away without looking at her.
Nora arrived with Eli and six former Wren workers in a borrowed neighborhood van.
Bernard met them at the side entrance and recognized Ruth immediately.
“I thought you retired to Florida,” he said.
“I did, and Florida sent me back because I complained too much.”
They embraced beneath the flickering service light.
Eli stared at the lighting cables that ran across the hall like thick ropes.
Nora made him hold her hand until they reached the dressing rooms.
Claire hurried toward Ruth and introduced herself with visible nervousness.
Ruth examined her face.
“You have Marion’s eyes,” she said.
Claire blinked and looked away.
“I’ve been told that.”
Ruth touched the old music box.
“She used to wind this when the musicians complained about keeping tempo.”
A small smile crossed Claire’s face.
“Father said she kept everyone honest with it.”
“Your father wasn’t the one she was trying to keep honest.”
Ruth laughed at her own joke, and Claire did too.
Lena brought folding chairs into the rehearsal room so the former workers could rest.
The board’s counsel arrived a few minutes later with documents in her hand.
“The sponsors have accepted a revised show without the reconstructed voice,” Park said.
Claire looked relieved.
Then Park added that Martin still intended to demonstrate Whitmore Eternal’s technology during the opening remarks.
“He wants a short promotional segment before the live tribute.”
Nora stood.
“Does the board know?”
“They approved a technology demonstration in principle.”
“Did they approve using Marion’s voice?”
“No,” Park said.
“He argues the demonstration can use a licensed performer instead.”
Ruth tilted her head.
“So they want a machine to sing for us before we sing for ourselves.”
Park did not answer.
Claire took the documents and read quickly.
“A demonstration isn’t automatically wrong,” she said.
“It is wrong if the audience thinks it came from Mother.”
Nora turned to Lena.
“Can you make sure nobody gets surprised by what’s on the screen?”
“We can insist on a complete rehearsal with every cue identified,” Lena answered.
“Then insist,” Claire said.
Outside the room, footsteps echoed as security began admitting the first guests.
The audience had come expecting a miracle assembled by computers.
Nora wondered whether they would accept a room full of ordinary people instead.
