She went upstairs to a small waiting room near the board floor, where Celeste had agreed to meet her. The elevator opened on a corridor lined with art and photographs from the company's history. Maya had never been that high in the building. She had always worked below the executive floors, where windows looked across the loading docks rather than over the city.
One photograph caught her attention. It showed a younger Ellen Hail in a kitchen with a tray of small electrical components spread in front of her. Maya stopped so suddenly that the visitor behind her nearly bumped into her shoulder. She moved closer, read the plaque, and stared at the face.
Founder and Chairwoman Ellen Hail.
The hair was darker. The shoulders were straighter. But the eyes were the same, and the smile had the same patience. Maya felt cold and then warm. She remembered the older cleaner saying the building signed her check, not Shenine. She remembered the blue envelope, the police verification card, the quiet confidence with which the woman spoke to officers and executives.
"Oh," Maya whispered.
Celeste reached her side. "What is it?"
Maya pointed to the photograph. "The cleaner. Miss Ellen. That's her."
Her attorney looked at the plaque, then at Maya. "Are you certain?"
"I helped her clean the floor Monday. I spoke to her yesterday. I am certain."
For a moment they stood before the photograph without speaking. Maya had expected that learning Ellen was powerful would make the week's events easier to understand. Instead it made one question harder: how could Jamal have treated an elderly employee so carelessly when he did not know her identity, and why should the identity have made any difference?
At eight, Shenine was getting dressed for the board meeting. She had selected a pink suit, a new pair of shoes, and jewelry she believed communicated confidence without appearing careless. She did not expect to be questioned about her own conduct. She expected Jamal to announce that the independent audit had been triggered by Maya's misconduct and that the brand director had been unfairly targeted while preparing the company's most important launch of the year.
She called Derek while applying lipstick. "The files are ready?"
"The auditors have the originals. They're asking questions about the approvals."
"Then answer them."
"Shenine, I need you to understand something. They have the company registration for SM Creative."
She stopped moving. "Where did they get it?"
"Public registry. It's under your apartment address."
"Lots of companies use the same mailing service."
"This isn't a mailing service. It's your apartment."
"Derek, don't lose your nerve. Jamal will handle it."
"If you think I'm taking all the blame for this, you're mistaken."
The call ended. Shenine stared at her reflection, then forced herself to smile. For years she had learned that a polished face and a wounded voice could make people eager to defend her. She believed Jamal would defend her one more time, because admitting that he had been wrong about her would force him to admit how many other things he had failed to notice.