There was one part of the repair Ethan almost skipped because he disliked public theater, but Diane convinced him it mattered. Three weeks after the audit findings were released, Blackwood held an all-hands town hall in the shipping bay, the only indoor space large enough to hold most of the plant at once.
Vanessa stood on a low platform without a backdrop, slogan, or presentation screen. Grant's old communications team had offered to prepare slides. She told them no.
Employees filled folding chairs and stood along the rear wall. Some had worked under Vanessa's father for twenty years. Some had been hired six months earlier and knew the whole story only through rumor.
Ethan stood near the side rather than on the platform.
Vanessa began without thanking everyone for coming.
"I made a personnel decision three weeks ago based on an incomplete understanding of what I was looking at," she said. "I fired Ethan Cole publicly after seeing him away from his station for five minutes. I did not verify his shift history, fault log, or the work that had just been completed."
The room was silent.
"That decision was mine. Grant Whitmore influenced what I believed about Ethan, and the audit found serious problems in his reporting. But Grant did not order me to fire anyone. I did that."
A forklift operator near the back folded his arms.
Vanessa continued.
"The audit also found that Blackwood repeatedly removed individual attribution from technical work as information moved upward. That affected promotions, compensation, visibility, and the way leadership understood where value actually existed. We are correcting those systems."
She paused.
"I am not asking you to believe the culture is fixed because I am standing here saying this. You should judge that by what happens when the next disagreement occurs."
That sentence changed the room more than an apology would have.
Lydia opened microphones for questions.
The first came from a machinist named Henry Sloan.
"If somebody had spoken up that morning, would they have been fired too?"
Vanessa did not answer immediately.
"I don't know," she said. "And the fact that people had reason to wonder is a problem I created."
Another employee asked whether people who had been denied promotions under Grant would be reviewed.
Lydia answered that compensation and promotion history would be examined where the audit identified material attribution issues.
A woman from assembly asked whether Blackwood 2.0 was being canceled.
Vanessa smiled slightly.
"Some of you would enjoy that."
A few people laughed.
"No. We still need measurable performance, disciplined processes, and accountability. What changes is the assumption that only management creates those things."
Then a young technician raised his hand.
"Is Ethan getting special treatment now because Carrington likes him?"
The question produced visible discomfort.
Ethan almost admired the courage it took to ask.
Vanessa looked toward him.
"Ethan can answer if he wants."
He walked to the microphone.
"If I start getting special treatment, tell me."
The technician blinked.
"Seriously?"
"Yes. My title doesn't make my technical judgment correct. It gives me more responsibility to show my work. If I tell you a process is wrong, ask why. If I can't explain it, don't accept it because my office has glass walls."
A ripple of laughter moved through the crowd.
Ethan handed the microphone back.
The town hall lasted an hour and twenty minutes.
Vanessa left with fourteen pages of questions and no applause at the end.
She considered that a success.
A week later, she drove two hours north to visit her father.
He had retired to a house near a lake and claimed he had no interest in the company anymore, which was untrue in the harmless way retired founders lie about businesses that still carry their names.
He met Vanessa on the back porch wearing an old sweater and reading glasses.
"You look tired," he said.
"Thank you."