Novels by Fana Palms

Week twenty-seven. Early April.I'm at work when James calls me into his office."Elena, we need to discuss something sensitive."My stomach drops. "Okay.""The board received a complaint. Anonymous. Alleging that you're showing favoritism to organizations with connections to Damien.""What? That's not true. Every decision has been merit-based—""I believe you. But we need to address it formally. There's going to be an internal review of all your decisions since you started.""Who filed the complaint?""Anonymous. But between us? The timing and language suggest Melissa Voss."Of course."She won't stop, will she?""Apparently not. But Elena, if your decisions are clean—and I believe they are—this review will vindicate you.""And if it doesn't?""Then we deal with it. But I have faith in your integrity."I leave his office shaking.Immediately call Damien."The board is reviewing all my decisions. Anonymous complaint alleging favoritism.""Melissa.""That's what James thinks. Damien, w

Week twenty-four. March.For the first time in months, nothing dramatic happens.No sabotage. No crises. No vindictive exes or stolen documents.Just—life.I use the key to Damien's apartment three times the first week. Each time feeling the weight of trust it represents.Monday, I arrive before him after a late meeting. Let myself in. Make tea. Sit on his couch with work files.He comes home to find me there."This is nice," he says. "Coming home to you already here.""It feels domestic.""Good domestic or uncomfortable domestic?""Good domestic. Surprisingly good."We order dinner. Work side by side at his dining table. Him on financial projections for a new venture. Me on grant proposals.No intensity. No crisis. Just parallel existence."Is this what normal couples do?" I ask around nine PM."I think so. Work. Eat. Exist in the same space.""I like it.""Me too."Tuesday, the accelerator launches our first cohort. Five organizations. Twenty staff members across them all. Lives tha

Week twenty-two continues. The cybersecurity investigation moves quickly.By Tuesday, they have preliminary findings.Damien calls me at work. "Can you meet me at my place tonight? The investigators want to brief us both.""They found something?""Yes. And you're not going to like it."My stomach drops. "What time?""Six PM."I arrive to find Damien with two investigators—a woman named Sarah and a man named Marcus."Ms. Torres, thank you for coming," Sarah says. "We've traced the source of the leaked therapy notes.""Who was it? Melissa?""No. Though we initially suspected her. The actual source is someone closer to home."She pulls up a laptop. Shows me IP addresses, timestamps, digital footprints."The files were accessed from within Dr. Morrison's practice. By someone with legitimate login credentials.""A staff member?""Not exactly. The credentials belonged to Patricia Chen."My blood runs cold. "Dr. Chen? My therapist?""No. Patricia Chen is Dr. Morrison's practice manager. Also

Week twenty-one. February.The accelerator is thriving. Three partner organizations onboarded. Funding secured. Media coverage highlighting our work.I should be celebrating.Instead, I'm in my office staring at an email that just arrived.Subject: Information You Deserve to KnowNo sender name. Anonymous email address.The body contains a single attachment: "Damien_Voss_therapy_notes.pdf"My hand hovers over the mouse.This is wrong. I shouldn't open someone's private therapy notes.But the subject line—"Information You Deserve to Know"—implies something damning.I open it.The document appears to be session notes from Dr. Morrison. Dated from three months ago. November.My eyes scan the text:"Patient expresses concern that relationship with E is motivated more by fear of abandonment than genuine love. States he 'can't tell the difference anymore' between wanting her and needing her. Acknowledges proposing may be attempt to 'lock her down' rather than natural next step. Discussed pa

I don't tell Damien about Melissa's visit immediately.Not because I'm hiding it. But because I need to process it first.Tuesday evening, therapy with Dr. Chen."Melissa showed up at my office yesterday.""What did she want?""To warn me. Said Damien is performing change. That he'll revert to his old self and I'll be trapped.""How did that make you feel?""Shaken. Angry. But also—what if she's right? What if I'm seeing what I want to see?""Elena, what evidence do you have that Damien is performing versus genuinely changing?"I think. "Evidence of genuine change: consistent therapy, maintained boundaries, defended me to his mother, accepted help in his own growth, respects my autonomy. Evidence of performance: I can't think of any.""So Melissa's warning is based on what?""Her experience with him. Which was years ago. Different circumstances.""Exactly. She's projecting her past onto your present. That doesn't make it true.""But what if she sees something I'm missing? What if she

January 2nd. My first official day as Executive Director of the Impact Accelerator.I arrive at the office at seven AM. The space is new. Modern. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Elliott Bay.My office has my name on the door.Elena Torres, Executive Director.It feels surreal.Keisha arrives at seven-thirty. "Ready for this?""No. But we're doing it anyway."The first week is overwhelming. Hiring staff. Finalizing the pilot program structure. Meeting with potential partner organizations. Budget reviews. Strategic planning sessions.By Friday, I'm exhausted.Damien notices immediately when I get home."You look destroyed.""Thanks. Very flattering.""I mean you look exhausted. Come here."He pulls me to the couch. Takes off my shoes. Starts massaging my feet."Oh god, that's amazing.""Tell me about your week."I recount the chaos. The pressure. The learning curve."It's incredible work. But it's so much. And I keep worrying I'm not qualified.""Impostor syndrome?""Massive impost