Chapter 4 - The Cost of a Clean Report
Elena referred the discrepancy to the compliance director that afternoon.
Jada was not invited to the meeting.
She appreciated that more than she expected.
There were people paid to make decisions. Her job was to give them accurate information, not stand in a conference room defending the existence of a timestamp.
For two days, nothing happened where she could see it.
Work continued.
Phones rang.
Drivers complained about traffic.
Someone left a birthday cake in the break room.
The ordinary rhythm made Jada wonder whether she had exaggerated the importance of the records.
Then her access changed.
A message appeared when she tried opening the archive.
PERMISSION DENIED.
She sent Elena a screenshot.
Within minutes, her supervisor replied.
Do not attempt another route into the system. I’m checking.
Jada sat back.
Across the aisle, a coworker named Nolan kept his eyes on his monitor.
He had helped her find the supply closet on her first day.
Now he looked as though even turning his head might be dangerous.
At lunch, he approached her outside.
“I didn’t request it,” he said.
“Request what?”
“The access change.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“I know. I just wanted you to know.”
He stared at the parking lot.
Then he added, “People are nervous.”
“About what?”
He gave a humorless smile.
“Depends who you ask.”
That evening, Gavin called Jada into a conference room.
She paused at the door.
“Elena asked me to route assignments through her.”
“This isn’t an assignment.”
“Then should she join us?”
His expression hardened.
“Sit down.”
Jada remained standing.
He exhaled.
“You’re making an excellent opportunity unnecessarily difficult.”
“I’m trying to understand what you need.”
“I need you to recognize that preliminary observations can damage reputations.”
“I reported them internally.”
“And now there’s an outside review.”
That was new.
Jada said nothing.
Gavin slid a form across the table.
It described her first weeks as disruptive, inefficient, and resistant to management direction.
Her name appeared beneath a line marked employee acknowledgment.
Jada read every paragraph.
“Is this a formal performance review?”
“It’s a coaching document.”
“Then I’d like Marissa and Elena present.”
Gavin looked at her for a long moment.
“You haven’t been here long enough to know who your friends are.”
Jada’s pulse hammered.
“This is about my work. I’d like the people supervising it in the room.”
He picked up the paper.
“We’ll reschedule.”
She left with her hands trembling.
In the restroom, she locked a stall and pressed both feet against the tile.
She could not lose this job.
Her first paycheck had covered the overdue balance but not rebuilt anything. Their refrigerator still made a noise Denise described as “a man reconsidering his choices.” Jada’s car needed brakes.
Courage, she discovered, felt different when rent depended on direct deposit.
She emailed a record of the meeting.
Then she went back to work.
The next morning, Marissa met with her privately.
“The document Gavin presented is not part of your approved review.”
Jada swallowed.
“All right.”
“We’re addressing it. Your access was also changed without authorization from your supervisor.”
“Am I being fired?”
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
Jada looked down.
Marissa waited.
Finally, she said, “You don’t have to pretend this wasn’t frightening.”
That nearly undid her.
Later, Thomas requested a brief meeting with Elena and Jada together.
He stood when they entered.
“I owe you an apology,” he said.
Jada glanced at Elena.
Thomas continued.
“You raised a question in an interview. We hired you to do legitimate work. Someone made that feel unsafe.”
“I’m still on probation.”
“Yes. And that should mean we evaluate your work, not whether you make senior people comfortable.”
He looked tired.
Older than he had in the coffee shop.
“Why was the data being handled that way?” Jada asked.
Elena answered before Thomas could.
“We don’t know enough yet.”
Jada nodded.
She appreciated the correction.
Thomas folded his hands.
“The independent review will report to the board’s audit committee. I won’t run it.”
“Even though it’s your company?”
“Especially because it’s my company.”
On her way out, Jada noticed a framed photograph behind his desk.
A younger Thomas stood beside a woman holding an insulin pen case and laughing at the camera.
He saw her looking.
“My wife,” he said.
Jada hesitated.
“Is she—”
“She died six years ago. Not because of a shipment. I don’t want you connecting things that aren’t connected.”
She nodded.
“She spent half her life having people assume somebody else had checked.”
Outside his office, Jada stood quietly beside Elena.
Then she returned to her desk.
May you like
There was still work to do.
For the first time that week, she believed she might be allowed to do it.
