Chapter 4 - Thirty-Two Names
“What do you mean they weren't necessary?”
I stepped into the hallway.
My COO, David Chen, lowered his voice.
“The savings projections were manipulated.”
“By whom?”
“Victor Hale.”
Our former integration director.
Victor had managed the Pinnacle acquisition.
“He told the board the dispatch division was redundant,” I said.
“It wasn't.”
My jaw tightened.
“How much did we actually save?”
“Almost nothing.”
“Then why eliminate thirty-two jobs?”
“Because Pinnacle owned a distribution property Victor wanted sold.”
I understood immediately.
“Empty the department. Make the building look unnecessary.”
“Exactly.”
“Who bought it?”
“A holding company.”
“Connected to Victor?”
“We're investigating.”
I looked through the glass at Elena.
Thirty-two people.
Thirty-two families.
“Freeze every transaction Victor touched.”
“Already done.”
“And David?”
“Yes?”
“Find all thirty-two employees.”
“What are you planning?”
“First, we're going to tell them the truth.”
Elena heard it from me that afternoon.
“So I lost my job because some executive wanted a building?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't know?”
“No.”
“But you signed it.”
“Yes.”
She looked furious.
I let her.
Finally she said, “You keep admitting things.”
“Would you prefer excuses?”
“No.”
“Neither would I.”
“What happens now?”
“We investigate. Victor faces whatever consequences the evidence supports.”
“And the employees?”
“Every one of them will be offered reinstatement or a severance correction.”
Elena shook her head.
“You think that's enough?”
“No.”
That answer surprised her.
I continued.
“We're also changing how acquisitions are reviewed. No mass layoffs based solely on executive projections. Independent verification. Employee interviews.”
“You're doing all that because of me?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because of what happened to you.”
There was a difference.
She understood it.
A week later, Elena was discharged.
The motel had already evicted her.
Her belongings were in storage.
She stood outside the hospital with one bag.
Maya stood beside her.
I approached.
Elena immediately said, “Don't.”
“I haven't said anything.”
“I know that face.”
“What face?”
“The rich-person-solution face.”
Maya nodded.
“You do have one.”
I stared at her.
“Whose side are you on?”
“Mom's.”
“Obviously.”
Elena smiled despite herself.
“I found a short-term apartment.”
Her smile disappeared.
“I can't afford—”
“Callaway isn't paying.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Rosemary has an apartment above the bakery.”
Maya gasped.
“Above the cake?”
“Technically above the bakery.”
“That's better than heaven.”
Rosemary had offered the unit at a reduced rent in exchange for Elena helping with bookkeeping until she returned to work.
Elena looked stunned.
“She offered that?”
“She did.”
“Why?”
Maya answered.
“Because people can be nice.”
Elena looked at her daughter.
Then at me.
“Apparently.”
They moved in that evening.
For the first time, Maya had a bedroom.
Small.
But hers.
She taped a drawing above the bed.
Three stick figures.
One labeled MOM.
One labeled ME.
And one extremely tall figure wearing what looked like a black cape.
“Who is that?”
“You.”
“Why am I wearing a cape?”
“That's your coat.”
“It reaches the ground.”
“You're bad at standing still when I draw.”
I accepted the explanation.
Then I noticed something on the desk.
The hospital bracelet.
“You kept it?”
Maya nodded.
“So I remember.”
“Remember what?”
She shrugged.
“That bad things end.”
I didn't correct her.
Because sometimes they did.
But our problems weren't over.
Two days later, Elena received a phone call.
Her expression changed immediately.
“Where did you get this number?”
I was standing nearby.
Maya was decorating cookies with Rosemary.
Elena walked toward the back room.
“No. Stay away from us.”
I followed.
“Elena?”
She ended the call.
Her hand was shaking.
“Who was that?”
“No one.”
“Elena.”
She looked toward Maya.
May you like
Then whispered:
“Her father.”
