I stepped closer to the table.
For the first time since entering the building, anger threatened to break through the stillness that had protected me.
Mara touched my arm lightly.
Not to stop me from speaking.
To remind me that Greg wanted an outburst.
He wanted grief he could call instability.
So I breathed once and picked up the framed photograph from my box.
I placed it beside the payment records.
“Her name was Eleanor Mercer,” I said.
“She was not one of your assets.”
Greg finally looked at the photograph.
Something moved across his face, but it was not remorse.
It was calculation.
“Claire,” he said more softly, “you don’t understand the legal exposure you’ve created for yourself.
Those files contain protected client information.
Even if mistakes were made, you could spend years defending your actions.
Your mother would not want that for you.”
The room changed.
Even Denise looked horrified.
He had invoked my mother as though he had the right.
I met his eyes.
“You forged her signature after she was dead.
You don’t get to tell me what she would want.”
Mara slid a document across the table.
“Ms.
Mercer’s legal exposure has already been reviewed by federal counsel.
She is a cooperating whistleblower.
Your attempt to terminate her after a protected disclosure may constitute retaliation.
Your attempt to pressure her into signing a nondisclosure agreement this morning has also been documented.”
She turned the document toward Walter.
It was the separation agreement, photographed before I entered the building.
Mara had instructed me not to argue when they presented it.
She wanted Greg to reveal exactly what silence was worth to him.
Two weeks of severance.
That was his price for my mother’s name, my career, and eleven million dollars in stolen funds.
Walter looked through the glass at the employees outside.
Then he opened the conference-room door.
“Everyone, return to your desks,” he said.
“No records are to be deleted, removed, or altered.
The company’s systems are now under independent control.”
A man from the information-security team hurried forward.
“Sir, several servers began a mass deletion process ten minutes ago.”
Greg’s head snapped toward him.
Daniel was already typing.
“Which account initiated it?”
The technician checked his tablet.
“Executive administrator GW-01.”
Greg reached for his pocket.
Agent Price extended her hand.
“Your phone.”
“You don’t have a warrant to take it.”
“We have a preservation order, and company counsel has consented to secure corporate devices.”
Greg looked at Walter.
The chairman nodded once.
Slowly, Greg placed the phone on the table.
