"Go ahead."
"A lot of us didn't know whether we liked you when you were an analyst. You were quiet. Sometimes you seemed like you were looking for something. I don't think you wanted anyone to know what you were doing."
Daniel felt the accuracy of that observation. "You're right."
"Then if you want us to trust what happens next, don't run the reforms like another secret project. Tell people what can be done, what can't, and who decides."
He folded his notebook closed. "That's fair."
Carla smiled faintly. "Good. Because we're tired of being asked to believe in things we can't see."
When Daniel returned home that evening, Noah was at the kitchen counter with a large sheet of paper covered in stars. He had drawn a rocket at the center and surrounded it with pictures of people in different kinds of uniforms. A teacher, a mechanic, an astronaut, a nurse, and a man holding a briefcase stood beneath an enormous green planet.
"What's this?" Daniel asked.
"Jobs," Noah said. "Mrs. Palmer said we have to draw the job we'd want if we could choose anything."
"Which one is yours?"
Noah pointed to the mechanic. "Maybe this. Spaceships break. Somebody has to fix them."
Daniel studied the drawing. "That's a good answer."
"But Ben said rich people don't fix things. They hire somebody."
Daniel pulled out a chair. "Rich people should still know how to fix some things. And they should respect the people who know how to fix the others."
Noah looked pleased. "That's what I told him."
A few minutes later Noah asked whether he could bring a wrench to school for the presentation. Daniel explained that an imaginary wrench would probably be better. They laughed, and while Daniel washed the dinner plates, he thought of the technicians at Hale Meridian working around equipment that management had claimed was already repaired. The distance between a child wanting to fix a spaceship and a company refusing to fix a warehouse gate suddenly felt much smaller than it should have.
On Friday Frances called with the first major finding. The forensic team had confirmed that several vendor approvals were associated with credentials used from devices outside normal procurement locations. Some accesses coincided with meetings recorded on Adrian's calendar. That was not proof he had personally made every change, but the pattern justified a deeper examination. The board's audit committee was preparing a formal referral to the appropriate authorities and considering whether to place Adrian on administrative leave during the investigation.
"Have you told Victoria?" Daniel asked.
"She's in the room with me."
He heard movement, then Victoria's voice. "I wanted you to know before it became public. You raised the issue first."
"I appreciate it. What's the board planning?"
"To follow the evidence," Victoria said. "Not your money. Not my pride. The evidence."
Daniel let a moment pass. "That's a better beginning than we had at the airport."
"Yes," she said. "It is."
Adrian Voss was placed on paid administrative leave the following Monday. The notice came from Frances Wu and Leonard Price, not Victoria, and it explained that the measure was intended to protect the integrity of an investigation, not announce a finding of guilt. He surrendered his company laptop to a forensic specialist and was asked not to contact potential witnesses about the matters under review. His lawyer requested a copy of every allegation and insisted that the company had no evidence of deliberate misconduct.