Chapter 3 - The Cost of Three Minutes
Mari photographed the message before doing anything else.
Then she forwarded it to her attorney, Daniel Price, with an apology for contacting him after business hours.
He called immediately.
“Do not delete it. Do not answer.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good. Are you safe?”
She looked toward the kitchen.
Eli had repaired his bridge with masking tape. Her mother was coaching him from the doorway.
“For now.”
“Send it to the general counsel you mentioned. And Mari?”
“Yes?”
“You did not cause whatever this is by speaking.”
She pressed her lips together.
After four years, Daniel still knew exactly which lie she told herself first.
At Stone headquarters, Everett was discovering how many people had been comfortable letting him know less than he believed.
Priya stood opposite his desk with a preliminary document timeline.
“The translation agency says its certified final version contains the five-year protection.”
“Then whose version was on that table?”
“That is what we’re establishing.”
“Trevor?”
“His department coordinated distribution. That is relevant. It is not yet proof.”
Everett nodded, irritated by the distinction and grateful she insisted upon it.
His phone lit with Mari’s email.
He read the suspension notice first.
Then the threatening message.
The expression on his face made Priya stop speaking.
“What happened?”
He turned the screen.
She read it once.
“Forward that to me.”
Everett called the facilities director.
“Was Mari Collins removed from our account?”
“I believe the contractor received a complaint.”
“From whom?”
“I’m checking.”
“Check now.”
The answer arrived seven minutes later.
Trevor Lyle’s executive assistant had forwarded a request marked urgent. The request cited concerns raised by Trevor himself.
Everett stared out over Chicago.
For years, Trevor had solved problems before they reached his desk.
Everett had rewarded speed.
He wondered, suddenly, how many times speed had meant silencing the person most likely to explain the problem.
“Tell the contractor her suspension cannot be attributed to any request from me,” he said. “We will provide a factual account of what happened. No pressure about their employment decisions. But no lies in my name.”
Then he called Mari.
She answered cautiously.
“Mr. Stone?”
“I heard about your suspension.”
“It seems helping was outside my job description.”
He deserved the sharpness.
“I’m sorry.”
She said nothing.
“I know that doesn’t cover your rent.”
“No,” she replied. “It doesn’t.”
He appreciated her more for refusing to comfort him.
Priya joined the call and explained that the company wanted Mari to assist as a temporary language consultant under a written agreement reviewed by Daniel.
Independent rate.
Defined duties.
No obligation to abandon her own claims against Halden.
No demand for silence about unlawful conduct.
Mari asked for the agreement.
She did not say yes.
After the call, Everett’s daughter entered his office carrying two paper bags.
Leah Stone was twenty-six, an architect, and one of the few people who could look at his corner office without being impressed.
“You missed dinner.”
“I’m working.”
“You’re always working. I brought evidence of food.”
She set a sandwich on his desk, then noticed his expression.
“Who died?”
“Nobody.”
“Then why do you look like somebody showed you your own obituary?”
He told her.
Not everything.
Enough.
Leah listened with her arms folded.
When he finished, she glanced toward the city.
“You know what bothers me?”
“I suspect you’re going to tell me.”
“You trusted an app with a six-hundred-million-dollar conversation.”
“The interpreter was delayed.”
“Who canceled the backup?”
Everett went still.
He reached for the internal schedule.
Two interpreters had originally been booked.
The second reservation had been canceled the previous afternoon.
Authorization: executive development office.
Trevor’s department.
Leah watched him read.
“There it is,” she said softly.
At Mari’s apartment, Daniel finished reviewing the consulting agreement just before midnight.
“It’s fair,” he said. “Unusually fair.”
“Could it be a way to control me?”
“Anything can be misused. This gives us something enforceable if they try.”
Mari looked at the overdue electricity notice beside the refrigerator.
Then at Eli, asleep on the couch with a textbook open across his chest.
“I’ll sign.”
The next morning, she entered Stone headquarters wearing the only navy suit she had kept from her former life.
Rosa, the housekeeper who usually worked the executive floor, met her by the elevators.
“I heard what happened,” Rosa whispered.
“I’m still figuring out what happened.”
Rosa glanced toward the security desk.
“Then you should know something.”
Mari waited.
“Mr. Lyle came back last night.”
“That’s his office.”
Rosa shook her head.
“He wasn’t in his office.”
May you like
Her voice dropped.
“He was in the records room with a shredder.”
