Priya frowned. “Why would the Chief Financial Officer be involved in a press inquiry about a former Facilities employee?”
No one answered.
But the room understood.
My father’s story was not buried in HR alone.
It ran through money.
Grayson looked at Elise. “I want Vale in my office at noon. No agenda. No warning.”
“Understood.”
“And Cassandra Crane?”
Elise’s mouth tightened almost imperceptibly. “She’s asking why Ms. Bellamy is still in the building.”
“Tell her Ms. Bellamy is with me.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“She said this may create a reputational issue.”
Grayson’s smile was small and cold. “She’s right.”
After Elise left, silence returned.
I stared at the documents, at the fragile paper trail my father had left behind, and suddenly thought of Leo, the boy in the ditch. His backpack strap caught on rebar, water rising, his sister screaming while cars kept driving past.
Sometimes danger looked like rushing water.
Sometimes it wore a corporate badge and smiled through glass.
Grayson sat across from me again. “Nora, I want to offer you a formal consulting engagement effective today. Independent of HR. You’ll work with Priya and my office to review historical vendor and personnel records related to Northstar, your father’s departure, and any linked entities.”
I blinked. “I came for an interview.”
“You’re getting one.”
“This feels different.”
“It is.” He folded his hands. “You can say no.”
I looked at Priya.
She nodded. “You should have counsel review anything before signing.”
That made me trust her more.
“I can’t afford counsel,” I said.
Grayson answered immediately. “Then we’ll provide independent counsel paid by the company but selected by you from an approved outside list.”
“No,” I said before I could stop myself.
He waited.
I forced myself to explain. “My father trusted company-approved processes.”
Grayson accepted that without argument. “Fair. Then I’ll have Elise compile options, and you choose whether any work. Or you bring your own when you’re ready. Nothing signed today.”
The offer was reasonable.
That frightened me too.
Because reasonable things make hope possible.
And hope, in my experience, had sharp edges.
Before I could answer, the conference room phone rang.
Grayson pressed the speaker.
Elise’s voice came through, controlled but tense. “Mr. Pierce, Cassandra Crane is on the executive floor. She says she has an obligation to address an unauthorized candidate escalation.”
Priya muttered something under her breath.
Grayson stood. “Let her in.”
My stomach tightened. “Maybe I should—”
“No,” he said.
The door opened fifteen seconds later.
Cassandra Crane entered as if the room belonged to her.
She was elegant in a cream suit, with auburn hair cut neatly above her shoulders and a face arranged into warm concern. I recognized her from company videos: the executive who spoke about belonging, workplace empathy, and values-based leadership while standing before banners that said People First.
She looked at me, then at my bandaged hands and borrowed cardigan.
“Nora,” she said gently. “I’m glad you’re safe after whatever happened this morning.”
Whatever happened.
Already shrinking it. Softening it. Turning it vague.
“Thank you,” I said.
Her smile did not reach her eyes.
She turned to Grayson. “I’m concerned about process. This candidate was flagged after irregularities appeared in her application file.”
Priya lifted her brows. “What irregularities?”
Cassandra looked at her as though only just noticing she was there. “Priya. I wasn’t aware Audit was involved.”