CHAPTER THIRTEEN B — THE WOMAN WHO PRINTED THE PROGRAM
The following morning, Andrew received a call from a number he did not recognize.
The caller introduced herself as Maribel Ortiz, a graphic designer who had worked with Hannah on the event materials.
“I found out the program changed,” Maribel said.
“I need to understand whether I did something wrong.”
Andrew stepped outside the hotel to hear her over the lobby noise.
“What materials did you create?”
“The printed insert, the slideshow titles, and a set of cards for guests to write supportive messages,” Maribel answered.
“Hannah said the cards would be given to both of you after the separation announcement.”
Andrew watched a delivery truck back into the service entrance.
“She told you we were separating?”
“She said the decision had been mutual for months,
” Maribel replied.
“I didn’t know there was any disagreement.”
“There was no agreement,” Andrew said.
The designer was silent.
“I designed the cards to say, Thank you for choosing kindness in a difficult transition,” she said.
“I thought I was helping two people make an uncomfortable announcement gracefully.”
Andrew leaned against the stone wall.
“You were doing the job you were hired to do.”
“I feel terrible,” Maribel answered.
“I’m a freelancer, and I work on wedding announcements and memorial programs all the time.”
“People trust me to make their words look beautiful.”
Andrew considered her confession.
“I don’t think the problem is that you designed the cards,” he said.
“The problem is that Hannah asked you to make a false story look settled.”
“She even told me you were too emotional to proofread,
” Maribel said.
“I should have insisted on hearing from both of you.”
Andrew heard regret rather than an excuse.
“Will you dispose of the cards?” he asked.
“I already stopped production,” she replied.
“There are two finished boxes, but I can destroy them.”
“Please do.”
Maribel hesitated.
“There’s a final invoice, and Hannah used your family account for the deposit.”
Andrew checked the receipt she sent while they were on the phone.
The deposit had been paid with the card Andrew used for travel expenses.
He had approved Hannah’s request to cover printing for Lillian’s event.
He had not known what was being printed.
“Keep your payment for the work you performed,” Andrew told Maribel.
“I’ll address the expense with Hannah.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m not going to punish you for finishing an assignment you reasonably thought was authorized,” he answered.
“But I would appreciate a copy of the final specifications.”
Maribel sent them immediately.
The documents were ordinary business records, yet reading them felt like entering a stage set constructed around his own absence.
There were instructions for the color of the cards, their placement beside dinner plates, and the exact moment guests should be prompted to write messages.
Hannah had left almost nothing to chance.
When Andrew returned to the hotel, he found Hannah near the café.
She rose as he approached.
“Can we talk?”
He placed the receipt on the table between them.
“You used our card to print seventy congratulatory messages for a separation I didn’t agree to,” he said.
Hannah stared at the paper.
“It was part of the event budget.”
“It was part of your plan.”
“I was going to reimburse it.”
“The money isn’t the point,” Andrew answered.
“You made employees and contractors tell a story that depended on my silence.”
Hannah pushed the receipt away.
“You keep speaking as though I plotted some terrible crime.”
“I’m speaking about what you did,” Andrew said.
“You planned the room, the photographer, the applause, and the words I would be expected to say.”
“You left me no part except the one you assigned.”
Hannah’s expression changed from defensive to weary.
“I thought if everyone reacted kindly, you might find it easier to accept.”
Andrew shook his head.
“You wanted the decision to happen first and my reaction to come second.”
“Yes,” Hannah said quietly.
She looked toward the windows.
“I didn’t trust myself to tell you face to face.”
“Then you needed to find a way to have that conversation,” Andrew replied.
“You didn’t need to hire people to make it impossible for me to refuse.”
Hannah pressed her palms against the tabletop.
“I hear you.”
Andrew stood.
“Hearing me now doesn’t change what you asked those people to do.”
He walked away before the conversation could turn into another argument about whether her intentions had been gentle.
