Chương 3
He looked for the missing piece.
After twenty minutes, he found the June report.
The numbers were clean.
Too clean.
He compared the original version with the final version.
A pattern appeared.
Small changes.
Different departments.
Different amounts.
Always below the threshold that required additional review.
Someone was not making one large mistake.
Someone was carefully avoiding attention.
Daniel printed the comparison and leaned back.
The person who altered the reports understood the system.
They understood exactly where the company looked and where it did not.
A knock came at his door.
He closed the documents quickly.
Rachel Kim stood outside.
She looked exhausted.
Her hair was pulled back differently than usual, and she kept holding her phone even though the screen was dark.
“Can I come in?”
Daniel stood.
“Of course.”
She entered and closed the door.
Neither of them sat immediately.
“I need to ask you something,” Rachel said.
“Okay.”
“Did you change the reports?”
The question was so direct that Daniel almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because he was surprised by how much he wanted someone to ask him that plainly.
“No.”
Rachel watched him.
“I didn’t think you did.”
“Then why ask?”
She looked down.
“Because yesterday they asked me the same thing.”
Daniel’s expression changed.
“They accused you?”
“Not exactly.”
“That’s what everyone says before accusing someone.”
Rachel sat down.
“I made the original adjustments.”
Daniel waited.
She rubbed her thumb against the edge of her phone.
“They were legitimate corrections.”
“I believe you.”
“That’s not enough.”
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Daniel recognized it.
It was the voice of someone who had already learned that being right and being believed were different things.
“What happened after you sent the file to me?” he asked.
Rachel looked toward the window.
“I don’t know.”
“Rachel.”
“I said I don’t know.”
Her voice rose slightly.
Then she lowered it.
“I sent it to you.”
Daniel noticed the anger in her face.
Not toward him.
Toward herself.
“Who else had access?”
She hesitated.
That hesitation answered before she did.
“Rachel.”
“Marcus.”
The name sat between them.
Daniel felt something tighten in his chest.
“Why would Marcus have access?”
“Because he requested it.”
“When?”
“The same afternoon.”
Daniel stood and walked to the window.
Below them, people crossed the parking lot carrying coffee cups and bags.
A woman held the door open for a stranger.
Someone laughed near the entrance.
The world continued with no concern for his suspicion.
“What did he tell you?” Daniel asked.
Rachel was quiet.
“He said there was a reporting issue and he needed to compare the numbers.”
“That’s normal.”
“Yes.”
She paused.
“But he didn’t ask me to send him the file.”
Daniel turned around.
“What did he ask?”
Rachel swallowed.
“He asked me if I trusted you.”
The answer bothered Daniel more than he expected.
“Why?”
“I thought he was worried about the numbers.”
“And now?”
Rachel looked at the floor.
“Now I think he was trying to figure out what I knew.”
Daniel sat back down.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The silence was uncomfortable, but not empty.
It was the silence of two people realizing they had been standing near the same fire from different sides.
“I should have told you sooner,” Rachel said.
Daniel looked at her.
“Why didn’t you?”
She gave a small, embarrassed laugh.
“Because I’m twenty-eight and I have student loans and a mortgage and I like having health insurance.”
The honesty caught him off guard.
He almost smiled.
Almost.
“I understand.”
“No, you don’t.”
The words were not cruel.
They were tired.
“You’ve been here forever.”
Daniel looked away.
That was true.
Rachel continued.
“People know your name.”
“Not right now.”
She looked at him.
“That’s different.”
The sentence stayed with him.
Because she was right.
Reputation was something people borrowed until they needed distance.
Daniel spent the next hour reviewing everything Rachel brought him.
She had copies of emails.
Small notes.
Calendar invitations.
Nothing that proved someone had committed fraud.
Nothing that could clear him either.
The most important thing they found was not a document.
It was a meeting request.
Three weeks before the quarterly report was finalized, Marcus had scheduled a private meeting with the external auditing team.
The title of the meeting was harmless.
“Process Alignment Discussion.”
Daniel stared at it.
“That sounds like something a person writes when they don’t want anyone to know what they’re discussing.”
Rachel shrugged.
“Corporate language does that.”
“You sound older than twenty-eight when you say things like that.”
“I sound tired.”
Daniel looked at her.
For the first time in two days, something close to normal entered the room.
A small moment.
A human one.
Rachel noticed a stack of old magazines beside his printer.
“You still keep those?”
Daniel looked over.
They were industry journals from years ago.
“I forget they’re there.”
“That’s not a good answer.”
“It’s an honest one.”
She smiled slightly.
“You’re terrible at pretending.”
“I thought that was my strength.”
“It probably was.”
The smile disappeared.
“Until someone decided it wasn’t.”
Daniel looked back at the meeting request.
That was the moment he understood the real danger.
Not that someone had used his credentials.
Not that someone had changed numbers.
Those things could be investigated.
The danger was that someone had been preparing a story about him.
A story where every mistake looked intentional.
A story where every person who hesitated became evidence.
His phone vibrated.
It was Claire.
The message contained only one sentence.
“We need to talk before this goes further.”
Daniel stared at the screen.
Rachel watched his face.
“Bad?”
“I don’t know.”
He stood and grabbed his jacket.
“Where are you going?”
“To find out what she knows.”
Rachel stood too.
“Daniel.”
He stopped at the door.
“If you go in there angry, they’ll use that.”
He looked at her.
“You think I’m angry?”
Rachel gave him a tired expression.
“Yes.”
May you like
Daniel wanted to argue.
Instead, he put the jacket back on the chair.
