Chapter 4
I drove to Evelyn Carter's apartment that afternoon.
I didn't bring a camera crew.
I didn't bring a public relations team.
And I didn't bring a photographer to record how generous the CEO was being.
I brought Daniel.
And I brought the letter.
The building stood on a quiet street lined with old brick houses.
Its entrance light flickered.
The stairwell smelled faintly of detergent.
I climbed three flights of stairs and stopped outside apartment 3B.
For a moment, I couldn't knock.
Not because I was afraid of Evelyn.
Because I was ashamed of what had happened under my leadership.
Finally, I raised my hand.
Three gentle knocks.
Footsteps approached.
A chain rattled.
The door opened a few inches.
A woman with tired eyes looked out.
She recognized me immediately.
"Ms. Bennett?"
"Hello, Evelyn."
She stared at my blazer.
Then at Daniel.
"Did I do something wrong?"
Those words nearly broke me.
"No," I said. "You did something right."
She slowly removed the chain.
The apartment was small.
A worn couch stood beside a folding table.
Two packed cardboard boxes rested near the doorway.
On the wall hung a photograph of Evelyn with a teenage girl wearing a graduation gown.
Both were smiling.
I looked at the boxes.
"Are you moving?"
Evelyn lowered her eyes.
"The landlord gave us another week."
My chest tightened.
"I'm sorry."
She shrugged.
"I'll figure something out."
A young woman appeared from the hallway.
She looked about eighteen.
"Mom?"
Evelyn turned.
"Jasmine, this is Ms. Bennett."
The girl's face changed.
"The woman from your company?"
"Yes."
Jasmine looked directly at me.
"Why are you here?"
There was no politeness in her voice.
Only anger.
I didn't blame her.
"I came to apologize."
Jasmine laughed bitterly.
"An apology won't give my mother her job back."
"Jasmine," Evelyn whispered.
"No, Mom."
She stepped closer.
"Your company called her a thief. Do you know what happened after that?"
I stayed silent.
"People stopped speaking to her. She couldn't get another job. She sold her car."
Her voice cracked.
"I had to give up my college dorm because we couldn't afford it."
Evelyn touched her daughter's arm.
"Baby, please."
Jasmine pulled away.
"No. She needs to hear it."
I looked at the young woman.
"You're right."
She stopped.
I took a breath.
"An apology isn't enough."
Evelyn lowered herself onto the couch.
"Then why did you come?"
I placed her letter on the table.
"Because this should have reached me."
She stared at the envelope.
Her hand rose slowly to her mouth.
"You found it."
"Maya saved it."
Tears gathered in Evelyn's eyes.
"That girl risked her job for me."
"Yes."
I sat across from her.
"And I want to hear exactly what you discovered."
Evelyn hesitated.
Then she stood and walked into her bedroom.
When she returned, she carried an old handbag.
She opened a hidden zipper.
Inside was a small memory card.
"I kept copies."
Daniel leaned forward.
"Copies of what?"
"Photographs. Invoices. Account information."
She placed the card on the table.
"I was cleaning the conference room when I noticed two invoices with the same description."
I waited.
"Both claimed to be for security consulting."
"Different vendors?" Daniel asked.
"Yes. But they had the same telephone number."
Daniel glanced at me.
Evelyn continued.
"I thought it was a mistake. Then I found three more."
"How many did you photograph?"
"Thirty-seven."
I looked at Daniel.
His face had grown serious.
Evelyn rubbed her hands together.
"When Victoria found out, she told me those were private documents and that I could be fired for looking at them."
"Then what?"
"I said I wanted to tell someone."
She looked down.
"The next morning, they said I'd stolen a laptop."
Jasmine sat beside her mother.
"I told her not to trust them."
Evelyn gave a sad smile.
"I thought if I told the truth, somebody would listen."
I leaned forward.
"Somebody is listening now."
Daniel placed the memory card inside a protective envelope.
"We'll make a forensic copy. We'll keep the original safe."
Evelyn looked frightened.
"Will Richard come after me again?"
"No one can guarantee what another person will do," I answered. "But we can help protect you and make sure you're supported."
I explained that independent investigators had been hired.
That the financial records were being preserved.
And that the board had authorized immediate assistance for employees harmed by retaliation.
Evelyn shook her head.
"I don't want charity."
"Neither do I."
She frowned.
I continued.
"I want you to receive the wages, benefits, and compensation you're legally entitled to. Daniel will arrange independent legal advice for you at the company's expense, so you can make your own decisions."
Jasmine looked at me.
"And her name?"
"We'll formally withdraw the false accusation and correct her employment record."
Evelyn covered her face.
For several moments, she couldn't speak.
Then she whispered, "Thank you."
I shook my head.
"Please don't thank me for correcting something that should never have happened."
My phone vibrated.
Margaret.
I answered.
"Nia, we need you back at headquarters."
"What's happened?"
"The outside accounting team found a connection between the vendors."
I stood.
"What connection?"
Margaret hesitated.
"All three companies eventually transferred money through the same private investment firm."
Daniel looked up.
"Which firm?"
I repeated the question.
Margaret answered.
"Northbridge Capital Holdings."
The room went quiet.
I knew that name.
Very well.
Northbridge Capital was owned by my former business partner.
The man who had helped me launch the company eleven years earlier.
The man I had trusted enough to make him a founding director.
Thomas Whitmore.
I gripped the phone.
"Margaret, are you certain?"
"Yes."
I stared at the apartment wall.
At Evelyn's graduation photograph.
At the evidence she had risked everything to preserve.
Then Margaret said something worse.
"Nia, Northbridge received its first payment six weeks before your illness forced you to take leave."
My heart began pounding.
Six weeks before I became sick.
Six weeks before I handed day-to-day control to senior management.
And suddenly, a terrible question entered my mind.
May you like
What if the theft had not simply taken advantage of my absence?
What if someone had been preparing for it?
