William Parker was waiting when the elevator opened. He wore a navy suit and a tie that seemed to have been loosened and tightened several times. Beside him stood Susan Reeves, the board's independent lead director, and Martin Cole, a longtime finance director whose family had owned a regional manufacturing company. They had seen the videos. Ethan could tell by the way their eyes went briefly to his hands, then to his face, as if they expected injuries that did not exist.
William extended his hand. "Mr. Brooks, I am sorry we are meeting under these circumstances."
Ethan shook it. "Circumstances are usually the result of decisions, Mr. Parker. I hope we can discuss the decisions."
Susan gave a small nod. She was fifty-eight, sharp-eyed, and known for asking the question everyone else hoped would be forgotten. "That's why I'm here," she said. "I wanted the financing review to include governance from the beginning. It appears we were late."
The honesty distinguished her from the prepared language Ethan had heard all morning. "Late is better than refusing to look," he said. "But only if we actually look."
Inside the boardroom, a wall-sized screen displayed a paused video from Flight 1876. Ethan was standing in the aisle with his boarding pass visible; Clare stood before him, and Nathan occupied the space behind her near the galley. Someone had selected the still image as the background for the emergency briefing. Ethan stopped when he saw it.
There were five people around the walnut table. Nathan Caldwell sat in the middle, immaculate in a fresh shirt and jacket. Clare Bennett sat two seats away, hands clasped together so tightly her knuckles had whitened. Northstar's general counsel, Alicia Grant, had a legal pad open, and the company's head of human resources, Priya Shah, sat near the window with an expression that suggested she was taking inventory of mistakes before anyone had admitted them.
James Miller stood when Ethan entered. He had arrived twenty minutes earlier with a copy of the investment agreement and an outline of the evidence-preservation requests. James was a careful man in his early fifties with a tendency to speak slowly when someone else wanted him to hurry. He greeted Ethan without ceremony, then pointed to a chair.
"Maya is joining from New York," he said. "The investment committee is available if we need a formal vote on the funding hold. I've made clear that nothing beyond the contract's actual conditions can be suspended without approval."
"Good," Ethan said. "We have responsibilities outside this room."
William invited him to sit at the head of the table. Ethan declined and chose a chair halfway down instead, where he could see Nathan, Clare, and the directors without turning his back to anyone. He placed his boarding pass on the table next to his notes. It was now a small, badly creased object, but it carried a kind of documentary force no presentation slide could match.
"Before we begin," William said, "I want to assure you that Northstar takes these allegations very seriously."
Ethan looked at him. "I hope that means more than it has meant in the complaint responses I've been reading."
Alicia Grant glanced up. "You've been given access to complaint responses?"