It was a legitimate question dressed in a convenient way. Daniel did have a financial interest in the company's future, and that interest needed scrutiny. Frances agreed. She commissioned a separate review of Northstar's ownership disclosures, its transactions in Hale Meridian shares, and Daniel's access to company information during his employment. The review was not designed to punish him. It was meant to make sure the investigation would stand up when skeptical outsiders examined it.
Daniel did not object. He produced his trading restrictions, compliance disclosures, employment applications, and communications with the independent trustees. His own advisers confirmed that Northstar had made no new discretionary purchases of Hale Meridian shares using information from his employee access. The existing voting position had been built through disclosed transactions over several years. The conflict remained real, but it had not been concealed from the appropriate legal records.
"You understand," Evelyn Shaw told him, "that your decision to work there is going to look strange, even if it was lawful."
"It was strange," Daniel admitted. "I thought seeing the company from the inside would make me a better owner. I didn't think enough about what it could mean for the employees whose concerns I heard."
"That belongs in your statement."
"It will be."
At home, the headlines began filtering into Noah's world before Daniel could stop them. A parent had shared a business article in a school group chat. Someone had noticed Daniel's photograph and told their child that Noah's father was a secret billionaire. Noah came home on a wet Wednesday afternoon looking both excited and offended.
"Ben says you own half the companies in Chicago," he announced.
Daniel put down the spoon he was using to stir tomato soup. "Ben is exaggerating."
"He says you could buy our school."
"I don't want to buy your school."
"He said you pretend to be normal."
That stopped Daniel. He sat down at the kitchen table while Noah remained by the refrigerator, still wearing his wet coat. "Do you think I'm pretending?" he asked.
Noah examined the floor. "I don't know. You make me do chores. You make me save allowance money. And then somebody says you have enough money to buy a spaceship."
Daniel almost laughed, but the confusion in Noah's face made him stop. "I have a lot more money than most people," he said. "It's true. I should have explained it to you as you got older, and I wish you'd heard it from me instead of from Ben."
"Then why don't we live in a mansion?"
"Would you like one?"
Noah thought about the basketball hoop, his bedroom window, and the neighbor's dog that came to the fence for biscuits. "Maybe a mansion with a slide," he said. "But not if we have to move away from Max."
"Exactly. More things aren't always better things. We live here because it's a good place to be together. The money is real, and we can talk about it. But it doesn't make you more important than Ben or me more important than his dad."
Noah slid into a chair. "Then why was your boss mean to you?"