"You're right," she said. "That's the first useful thing you've told me today."
He looked at her, unable to decide whether he had been insulted. Angela continued before he could speak. "People follow leaders for many reasons. Fear is one. Habit is another. I intend to find out whether this company can give them a better reason."
Hawthorne left with his attorneys. The remaining former directors followed in small groups, some angry, some silent, some already arranging calls with their own counsel. Security did not march them through the lobby as prisoners; each received the ordinary courtesy of gathering personal effects and arranging access under the transition plan. Their directorships had ended, but their dignity was not a company asset Angela needed to seize.
When the last man crossed the threshold, Angela remained by the long table. For the first time since entering, she could hear the building's ventilation system and the faint sound of traffic far below. The room felt larger without people using its furniture to measure their importance. She looked toward Evelyn, who stood in the doorway waiting for the next instruction.
"You tried to warn them," Angela said.
"I did," Evelyn replied.
"I want a full account of every attempt you made to deliver the notices, including the times and responses. Not for punishment. For the transition record."
Evelyn nodded, then hesitated. "May I say something?"
"Please."
"I've worked here eleven years. They used to listen when I told them a filing couldn't wait. Then they stopped. I didn't know how much longer I could keep being responsible for instructions nobody wanted to hear."
Angela's expression softened. "Then let's begin by not wasting the experience of the people who know how this place actually works. You can show me what needs to be fixed first."
Evelyn stood straighter. "First, we need to tell Henderson that the meeting has changed. Second, we need the new directors properly seated. Third, somebody should probably bring the boardroom coffee that the old chairman told us not to interrupt him for."
Angela laughed, the first unguarded laugh anyone in the room had heard from her that morning. "Excellent priorities," she said. "In that order."
Maria Santos arrived twenty-eight minutes later, stepping out of the elevator with a leather portfolio beneath one arm and a look Angela had not seen since their graduate school days. It was the expression Maria wore when she was about to challenge a professor's favorite theory in front of the entire seminar. She entered the conference room, took in the empty chairs and abandoned water glasses, and shook her head slowly. This room had once represented every professional humiliation she had tried to forget.
"You actually did it," she said.
"The shareholders did," Angela corrected. "And you've still got time to reconsider the CFO job."
Maria placed her portfolio on the table. "I've spent the last two weeks finding everything wrong with your financial plan. If I were reconsidering, I wouldn't have bothered."