Chương 5
Someone could have added the initials to make him suspect her.
He hated how quickly his mind wanted a simple answer.
Someone was guilty.
Someone was innocent.
But the last few days had shown him how easily simple answers could destroy people.
The next morning, Daniel arrived at Harbor Bridge before anyone else.
The parking lot was almost empty.
A man from maintenance was unlocking the side entrance while listening to music through one earbud.
Daniel waited until the door opened.
"Morning," the man said.
"Morning, Luis."
Luis looked surprised that Daniel remembered his name.
Most people did.
Daniel remembered small things.
Birthdays.
Coffee orders.
The names of people's children.
It was easier than remembering his own mistakes.
Inside, he went directly to the records room.
The door required an employee badge.
His badge worked.
The room smelled like paper and dust.
He found the cabinet containing archived application files.
He did not know exactly what he was searching for.
That was the problem.
He only knew something was wrong.
After twenty minutes, he found a folder with missing pages.
Not empty.
Not destroyed.
Removed carefully.
Someone had wanted the absence to look normal.
Daniel reached for his phone.
Then stopped.
Because the person who had warned him the night before had wanted him to look here.
Which meant either they were trying to help him.
Or they were leading him somewhere.
He closed the folder.
For the first time since the video appeared, he understood something that frightened him more than being accused.
The person behind it did not just know how to damage his reputation.
They knew how he would respond.
Daniel stayed in the records room until the air conditioner clicked on and startled him.
He looked at the folder in his hand as if it belonged to someone else.
For a moment, he considered putting it back exactly where he found it and walking away.
That would have been easier.
It would have allowed him to tell himself that he had tried.
Instead, he placed the folder on the table and began taking pictures of every missing section, every empty space, every detail that suggested someone had removed pages without damaging the rest of the file.
His hands moved carefully, but his breathing did not.
A sound from the hallway made him stop.
The door handle moved.
Daniel quickly closed the folder.
The door opened and Jenna stepped inside holding a stack of envelopes.
She froze when she saw him.
"You're here early."
Daniel forced himself to relax.
"So are you."
She glanced at the folder on the table.
Then she looked back at him.
"I was dropping off mail."
"Right."
The silence that followed was uncomfortable.
Jenna shifted the envelopes between her hands.
"I don't know if I should say anything."
Daniel noticed the hesitation.
Usually Jenna spoke quickly.
She filled empty space because silence made her uncomfortable.
Now she seemed afraid of every word.
"You can say it."
She looked toward the hallway.
"I heard people talking."
"About me?"
She nodded.
"What did they say?"
Jenna pressed her lips together.
"That you were going to blame someone else."
The sentence landed harder than he expected.
"Who said that?"
"I don't know."
"Jenna."
She looked frustrated.
"That's the problem, Daniel."
"What is?"
"Everyone is hearing something from someone."
She put the envelopes down.
"Nobody knows where it started."
Daniel leaned against the table.
"Did you see anything unusual?"
Jenna looked away.
That was an answer before she spoke.
"I saw Maya in the records room."
"When?"
"Two nights before the video."
Daniel felt his stomach tighten.
"Doing what?"
"I don't know."
"Jenna."
"I don't know."
Her voice became sharper.
"I saw her walk in there after everyone left."
She rubbed her forehead.
"I thought it was normal because she's the director."
She paused.
"Then the next morning she asked me if anyone else had been in there."
Daniel stared at her.
"Did you tell anyone?"
"No."
"Why?"
Jenna gave a small laugh that contained no humor.
"Because I have rent."
The honesty surprised him.
She looked embarrassed immediately after saying it.
"I know that sounds bad."
"It doesn't."
"It does."
"No."
Jenna picked up the envelopes again.
"People like to think everyone does the right thing when things get serious."
She looked toward the door.
"Most people are just trying not to lose their job."
After she left, Daniel stayed there for several more minutes.
He understood what she meant.
He had spent years asking people to be brave during difficult moments.
He had forgotten that courage looked different when someone had children to feed or medical bills to pay.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Maya.
We need to talk before the board meeting.
Daniel stared at the words.
The board meeting.
He had forgotten about it.
The board only met once a month unless something urgent happened.
If Maya had called an emergency meeting, the situation had already moved beyond gossip.
He typed a response.
Where?
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Not here.
A few seconds later, another message arrived.
Coffee shop across the street.
Ten minutes.
Daniel almost laughed.
A secret meeting across from their own workplace felt like something from a bad movie.
But nothing about the last few days felt normal.
The coffee shop was crowded with people who had no idea that two people at the corner table were discussing a possible betrayal inside a nonprofit organization.
A man in a suit complained quietly about a parking ticket.
A woman near the window helped her child with homework.
A teenager behind the counter kept dropping spoons and apologizing every time.
Maya arrived carrying no folder.
Daniel noticed.
"You came without paperwork."
"I thought you might appreciate that."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
She sat down.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Maya said, "You found something."
Daniel studied her face.
May you like
"How did you know?"
"Because you have the same expression you had when you discovered the budget error three years ago."
