Chương 8
That almost made it worse.
Normal was dangerous.
Normal allowed people to ignore problems until they became impossible to hide.
Fiona was already in the conference room with Arthur and two investigators from the outside firm.
She looked exhausted.
That frightened me more than panic would have.
Fiona was not someone who became tired easily.
“What exactly did you find?” I asked.
One of the investigators, a woman named Rebecca Lane, opened a folder.
“We found an access log connected to an old executive account.”
She slid a copy across the table.
I looked at the information.
The account belonged to my father.
“Explain how this is possible.”
Rebecca folded her hands.
“We are still determining that.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No,” she said calmly.
“It’s the truth.”
I appreciated that.
A year ago, I might have disliked her honesty.
Now I trusted it.
“Someone could have maintained access credentials after his death,” Arthur said.
“Wouldn’t that have been noticed?” I asked.
Arthur looked uncomfortable.
“Not necessarily.”
The answer bothered me.
“How?”
“Because your father’s account was classified differently from normal executive accounts.”
“Why?”
Arthur glanced at Fiona.
She nodded slightly.
“It was part of a legacy security structure.”
I stared at them.
“My father had a secret account?”
“Not a personal account,” Arthur said quickly.
“A corporate archive.”
“Then why does it show activity?”
Nobody answered immediately.
That silence told me more than their words could have.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Fiona sat down.
“There are parts of Vance Global’s history you were never involved in.”
The sentence hurt.
Not because I expected to know everything.
Because my entire life had been connected to this company.
My father built it.
My family name was on it.
My shares controlled it.
And somehow, there were still rooms I had never entered.
“Why?”
Fiona looked at the table.
“Because your father wanted it that way.”
I felt anger rise.
“He wanted me protected?”
“Yes.”
“I’m tired of being protected.”
Nobody spoke.
The words came out sharper than I expected.
“My father protected me from the company.”
I looked at Fiona.
“Flynn protected me from the truth.”
I looked at Arthur.
“And everyone else protected me from difficult conversations.”
My hands rested flat against the table.
“I am done being the last person to know.”
Nobody argued.
Maybe because they knew I was right.
Maybe because they knew they had helped create the situation.
Rebecca cleared her throat.
“There is another issue.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“The access was used to review internal files connected to a project from six years ago.”
The date stopped me.
Six years.
The same year my father died.
“What project?”
She opened another document.
“Project Meridian.”
I had never heard that name.
Arthur looked away.
That was the first reaction that mattered.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
“You know it.”
Arthur took a slow breath.
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t I?”
He did not answer.
“Arthur.”
His eyes met mine.
“Because your father removed your access before he died.”
The room became very still.
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were his lawyer.”
“Yes.”
“You worked with him for thirty years.”
“Yes.”
“And you don’t know?”
Arthur looked older than he had that morning.
“I know he was afraid.”
That was not what I expected.
“My father?”
Arthur nodded.
“Near the end, he changed.”
I remembered those months.
I remembered hospital visits.
Short conversations.
My father forgetting names sometimes but remembering tiny details about me.
The way he became quieter.
I had thought it was illness.
Maybe it was fear.
“What was he afraid of?”
Arthur looked at Fiona.
She closed her eyes briefly.
Then she spoke.
“Someone inside the company.”
The answer felt like a door opening.
Not revealing the room.
Just showing there was one.
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because everyone kept telling me they did not know.
I had spent years surrounded by people who had information but not answers.
“I want everything.”
Arthur looked at me.
“Claire.”
“No.”
My voice was calm.
“That’s not a request.”
Nobody moved.
“I want every file related to Project Meridian.”
I looked at Rebecca.
“I want every access log.”
I looked at Arthur.
“I want every person who had permission.”
Fiona watched me carefully.
“You understand this may become bigger than Flynn.”
“I know.”
“And if there are people involved who are still powerful?”
I looked around the room.
“That’s the point.”
The investigation expanded over the next several days.
The more they uncovered, the less the original story made sense.
Flynn’s affair was real.
His misuse of company resources was real.
His arrogance was real.
But someone had used his weakness.
Someone had known exactly where to push.
Phoebe found the first connection.
She arrived at my office carrying two coffees and an expression that told me she had not slept.
“I found a pattern.”
She placed one coffee near me.
I noticed she still remembered how I took it.
No sugar.
Extra milk.
Small things.
People often revealed what they valued through what they remembered.
“What pattern?”
She opened her laptop.
“The vendors connected to Selina’s payments.”
I leaned closer.
“They weren’t random.”
“No.”
She turned the screen.
“They all have one thing in common.”
“What?”
“They were approved by a former executive.”
“Who?”
Phoebe looked at me.
“Daniel Cross.”
The name meant nothing.
Then she added one sentence.
“He worked for your father.”
I felt the room shift.
“Where is he now?”
Phoebe closed the laptop.
“That’s the problem.”
“What?”
“He disappeared from the company seven years ago.”
“After my father died?”
“Yes.”
I looked out the window.
The city moved below us.
Cars.
People.
Noise.
Everything continuing while my family’s history began changing shape.
“Why did he leave?”
Phoebe hesitated.
“Officially, retirement.”
“And unofficially?”
She looked at the documents.
“Your father accused him of stealing from the company.”
I turned back.
“But there was never a lawsuit.”
“No.”
“Why?”
May you like
Phoebe’s expression became serious.
“Because your father stopped the investigation before it became public.”
