Chapter 2 - The Test Adam Was Supposed to Fail
Friday morning, Adam stopped outside the university building.
I was waiting beside my old Honda.
He looked at the blue plastic sheet in his hand.
“This is ridiculous.”
“You're nervous.”
“Rossi men don't get nervous.”
“You threw up in a trash can three nights ago.”
He glared at me.
“We agreed never to mention that.”
“I agreed not to tell anyone.”
“That includes me.”
I smiled.
“Go take your test.”
He turned toward the building.
“Amara.”
“What?”
“If I pass…”
“You studied.”
“If I don't?”
“Then we'll figure out why.”
He stared at me for another second.
Then went inside.
Two hours later, he came out.
I couldn't read his expression.
“Well?”
He handed me the exam booklet.
“You finished?”
“All of it.”
That alone was a victory.
Three days later, the professor called.
Adam found me polishing the library shelves.
“Amara.”
Something about his voice made me turn.
He held up his phone.
“Eighty-nine.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“I got eighty-nine.”
He laughed.
Not the cold Rossi laugh.
A real one.
He grabbed me around the waist and lifted me off the floor.
“Put me down!”
“I got eighty-nine!”
“You also have terrible boundaries!”
He put me down immediately.
“Sorry.”
Then we heard slow applause from the doorway.
Mateo Rossi stood there.
Adam's smile vanished.
Mateo looked between us.
“How touching.”
“What do you want?” Adam asked.
“Uncle Charles wants everyone downstairs.”
Mateo glanced at the blue plastic on the desk.
“What is that?”
“A bookmark,” I said.
He picked it up.
“Cheap bookmark.”
“I'm a maid's daughter. Cartier hasn't entered the educational-plastic market yet.”
Adam almost smiled.
Mateo didn't.
Downstairs, Charles was waiting with three accountants.
“Eighty-nine,” he said.
Adam sat.
“Professor called?”
“I call professors.”
Charles pushed a shipping report toward him.
“Then explain this.”
Adam looked down.
Thousands of numbers covered the page.
His face tightened.
I saw it immediately.
No overlay.
No preparation.
Mateo smiled.
Charles tapped a figure.
“Why did our freight expenses increase seventeen percent?”
Adam stared at the numbers.
Then something surprising happened.
He closed the report.
“Give me the raw invoices.”
Charles's expression changed.
“Why?”
“Because this report is useless.”
Mateo laughed.
“You suddenly became an accountant?”
Adam ignored him.
“The totals don't match our container volume.”
Charles leaned forward.
“How do you know?”
“Because Am—”
Adam stopped.
My heart jumped.
He corrected himself.
“Because I reviewed logistics while studying economics.”
Charles ordered the invoices brought in.
For two hours, Adam worked differently.
He didn't read dense spreadsheets.
He separated pages.
Grouped invoices by color.
Used physical stacks.
Then he found it.
“Here.”
Charles looked.
Adam placed two invoices side by side.
“Same container.”
Different companies.
Different amounts.
Mateo stopped smiling.
Charles picked up the papers.
“How much?”
The accountant swallowed.
“Potentially several million.”
Silence.
Charles looked at Mateo.
Then Adam.
“Find every dollar.”
That evening, Adam entered the library and locked the door.
I was already waiting.
“How much?” I asked.
“Eleven point eight million.”
I stared at him.
“Missing?”
“Redirected.”
“To whom?”
He placed an invoice on the desk.
A company name had been highlighted.
MRC Holdings.
I frowned.
“What does MRC stand for?”
“I don't know.”
Then I noticed something.
“Adam.”
“What?”
I pointed at the invoice.
“This paper was printed here.”
“How can you tell?”
“Because your office printer leaves that faint black mark along the edge.”
He stared at me.
“You're sure?”
“I clean the machine every Tuesday.”
Adam went silent.
Then slowly looked toward the ceiling.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No. What?”
He pointed toward the smoke detector.
“That wasn't there last week.”
I looked up.
A tiny dark lens sat inside it.
Adam's voice dropped.
“Don't move.”
“Is that a camera?”
“Yes.”
“Who installed it?”
His expression hardened.
May you like
“Someone who knew we'd start looking.”
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