"Good."
"Maya is back. People are talking about how corporate stepped in."
"They're going to have more to talk about tomorrow."
Otis looked at her. "Jamal knows the board is meeting Friday at ten. He's been asking who called it."
"The invitation is legitimate. He should attend it."
"What if he refuses?"
"Then he'll hear about the results afterward. But I hope he comes." Ellen opened the sandwich. "I still want him to choose the right thing before somebody makes the decision for him."
"Mrs. Hail, he has been given that choice every day this week."
She did not answer immediately. Otis was right. She was discovering that love for her grandson could make her stretch the benefit of the doubt farther than she would have allowed for any other executive. The recognition was uncomfortable, but she had long ago learned that discomfort could be useful if it forced a person to correct a mistake.
"No special treatment tomorrow," she said at last. "If Jamal failed as a leader, the board must say so plainly, even if I am the person who loves him most."
While Ellen and Otis ate, Kiana sat across from Shenine in a locked meeting room with sixteen invoices spread across a table. Each carried the name of SM Creative and described branding services for the HearthLink launch. The total came to four hundred thousand dollars. Some invoices had supporting documents that were variations of the same presentation. Others included only vague phrases such as strategic development and launch consulting.
"The auditors are coming Friday," Shenine said. "We need an orderly approval file."
Kiana looked at the signature lines. "These approvals are supposed to come from Maya and Jamal."
"They did."
"Then why are the signatures blank?"
Shenine leaned back. "Because the originals were misplaced during the system transition. We're reconstructing the file. That's all."
Kiana looked at the dates. Several approvals were marked for days when Maya had not been assigned to the marketing ledger. One carried a date when Jamal had been out of the country. The boxes for vendor confirmation contained a company number Kiana recognized from an address she had seen on Shenine's personal paperwork.
"These aren't reconstruction forms," Kiana said. "You want me to sign for other people."
"I want you to bring the file into compliance."
"That's forgery."
Shenine's eyes hardened. "Be careful how you talk to me."
Kiana stared at her hands. "I can't sign Maya's name on four hundred thousand dollars of invoices."
"You already have your initials on the entry sheets," Shenine replied. "And you moved the prototype. Do you really want investigators asking why you helped hide an eighty-thousand-dollar device in a cleaning cart?"
The room seemed to tilt. Kiana remembered the silver case, the bright pink nail fragment, and Maya standing beside the cart saying Ellen would never steal it. She had been telling herself for three days that she merely followed orders. Shenine was now explaining the price of that belief.
"I didn't know you were going to accuse Ellen," Kiana whispered.