By six o'clock the first carefully worded statement went to employees and investors. Thornfield announced the validated shareholder transition, identified its new board, confirmed the continuation of existing customer service obligations, and described an independent review of employee treatment and governance. It also warned that projected contract values remained contingent. Maria insisted on that sentence, and Angela allowed it to stand near the beginning where an impatient reader would see it.
The financial news carried the announcement within minutes. Reporters called Thornfield's media office, Apex's investor relations team, and Angela's private phone. Some described the takeover as a calculated humiliation of old corporate power. Others treated it as a miraculous return of business worth hundreds of millions of dollars. Angela authorized a correction whenever a report confused projected revenue with completed contracts, even when the exaggerated story made her look more successful.
"You're losing the moment," a public relations consultant complained over the phone. "This is the kind of narrative people remember."
"Then give them one that's true," Angela replied. "If the next leadership team is going to ask employees to trust us, we cannot begin by lying in our first press release."
At seven thirty, when the last director had left, Maria and Angela remained at the end of the conference table reviewing a list of people who needed to hear directly about the transition. Evelyn had put together the list without being asked: union representatives, employee resource groups, manufacturing supervisors, payroll managers, facilities personnel, customer service teams, and external partners. It reached much farther than the names on the old board's emergency telephone tree.
"Look at that," Maria said. "For years their idea of stakeholder communication was calling twelve people with expensive titles. Evelyn found sixty who actually keep the business moving."
"Have we offered her a bigger role yet?" Angela asked.
"Not without asking what she wants," Maria replied. "You're learning."
Angela leaned back and closed her eyes for a moment. The black turtleneck was still comfortable, the flats were still on her feet, and her carefully planned day had ended in a room with dirty coffee cups and legal documents stacked like unfinished homework. She thought about Camille's thesis presentation, the one event she had promised not to miss. Despite the day's financial stakes, she felt more nervous about that promise than about any board vote.
"Call your daughter," Maria said, reading her expression. "And eat something. You can own a controlling stake in a company without forgetting dinner."
Angela opened her eyes. "You sound like my mother."
"Your mother was usually right."
They left together through the executive corridor. Employees who had learned about the transition stood in small groups, pretending not to watch them. One woman from reception recognized Angela from the customer service floor and mouthed a startled hello. Angela stopped long enough to ask about her shift and whether she had transportation home, then listened carefully when the woman mentioned that evening coverage had been reduced again to save costs.