Chapter 3 The Investigation

I put the trophy into a cardboard box.

I could feel eyes on me. My colleagues sneaked glances my way before quickly looking away.

Grace sauntered down the hall and stopped about ten feet away, standing beside Madeline as they watched me pack up my things.

I carried the box to the workstation near the restroom. It was a tiny desk, and a layer of dust had already settled across the surface.

Two boxes of printer paper were stacked in the corner, giving off a musty smell.

I set the box on the desk.

I was called to the administrative department at 2 p.m. that very afternoon.

The administrative supervisor didn't even look up as they handed me a form, saying blandly, "Ethan, Ms. Parker wants you to spend the afternoon organizing the storage room. It's part of our rotational training. Everyone will be taking a turn."

I took the form.

The storage room was two floors underground, packed with outdated files, old desks and chairs, and company T-shirts from who knew how many years ago.

I spent the entire afternoon moving things by myself.

The edges of the cardboard boxes cut my hands in several places. Tiny beads of blood welled up, but I merely wrapped the cuts with a tissue and kept going.

…

When I got home at 7 p.m., I was so exhausted that I couldn't even be bothered to turn on the lights.

I sat on the couch, pulled up my contacts, and found Lorelei Reed's number.

My finger hovered over the call button. Then, I suddenly recalled what Claire had said at last year's celebration dinner.

She'd been holding a glass of wine, her face flushed with excitement. She'd slapped me on the shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. "Ethan, you can do whatever you want from now on. There are no rules here. What you say goes."

I gave a self-deprecating laugh and turned off my phone.

…

On the morning of the third day, I'd barely sat down at the workstation beside the restroom when footsteps came from the other end of the hall.

Grace led the way, holding a file. Sure enough, Madeline, her ever-loyal lackey, was right at her side. They stopped together in front of my desk.

Grace tossed the file onto my desk. Several pages slid out and scattered across my keyboard.

"Ethan, this is last year's project review report. There are several discrepancies in the numbers, and we suspect you falsified your performance figures. The company has decided to form an investigative committee.

"You're suspended pending the investigation and are required to cooperate with us."

I lowered my eyes to the report.

I knew those numbers by heart. I could have recited them with my eyes closed. So, I could tell at a glance that someone had altered them beyond recognition.

Revenue had been cut by 30%, costs had been increased by 20%, and the profit column had been changed to a loss.

Madeline stepped around to my side, her arms crossed against her chest. Her voice was pitched just loud enough for everyone around us to hear.

"Ethan, I never thought I'd see the day you ended up like this. You were riding high last year. Ms. Morgan even poured your coffee for you at meetings. Yet, look at you now."

A few people at the surrounding desks lowered their heads, the tapping of their keyboards noticeably slowing down with every word.

I looked straight at Grace. "You're sure you want to do this?"

Grace puffed her chest, walked around to my chair, and leaned down. Her voice dropped to a whisper meant only for me.

"Ethan, let me tell you something. Ms. Morgan doesn't care about you anymore. I had drinks with her last night, and she said she gave you too much last year and you got a little too full of yourself. I'm the one calling the shots around here now."

Then, she straightened and brushed at some imaginary lint on her hands.

"Pack your things. You don't need to come to work while the investigation is underway. Hand over your computer and your access badge, too."

I didn't move.

I could feel eyes settling on me from every direction. Some were sympathetic, some were indifferent, and most were just eagerly watching the drama unfold.

I slowly rose to my feet.

Then, I pulled my phone from my bag, opened my contacts right in front of Grace, and tapped the number I'd saved three months ago but never bothered to call.

The phone rang twice.

Soon, a calm woman's voice came through. "Ethan? So, you've finally decided to call me."

"Ms. Reed, I agree to the terms you've offered," I replied.