"I need the complete Daniel Carter personnel file," Charlotte said when Helen answered.
There was a pause. "Daniel Carter? From the old powertrain division?"
"Yes. The original file, not a summary. Termination documents, investigative reports, supporting evidence, and any internal correspondence concerning the alleged intellectual property theft."
"That predates our current archive system. It may take some time."
"Then start tonight."
Helen hesitated again. "Charlotte, is there a specific legal reason you're revisiting this matter?"
"Not yet," Charlotte answered. "That's what concerns me."
The next morning Charlotte arrived at headquarters before sunrise. The city was barely awake, and the security guard at the entrance seemed surprised to see her in a simple navy coat rather than her usual tailored suit. She took the service elevator to the prototype division, expecting to find the garage empty. Instead, she heard the measured turning of a ratchet beneath the chassis of a service vehicle.
Evan lay on a mechanic's creeper, one boot braced against the floor. He was tightening a bracket that had loosened during an overnight durability test, and beside him sat a plastic cup of coffee from the least impressive machine in the building. Charlotte waited until he slid clear of the vehicle before speaking.
"You start early," she said.
He looked up, startled. "The bus schedule for my daughter's school is fixed. If I want time to learn the shop before everyone gets here, I have to find it now."
"You couldn't sleep either?"
Evan studied her. "You look like somebody who already knows the answer."
She almost smiled. The answer was inconveniently human, and it made her feel less alone than she had in months. She asked him if he would walk with her to the break room. He wiped his hands, put the tool away, and followed her, careful not to touch the wall as they passed.
The room was empty except for humming refrigerators and a vending machine that displayed a row of sandwiches nobody wanted. Charlotte stood near the window as Evan poured another coffee. Neither spoke for several seconds. Finally, he removed a photograph from his jacket pocket and laid it on the table between them.
"My daughter found this last night," he said. "You've seen it before?"
Charlotte's face softened. "Yes. That's the day we announced the first successful demonstration of the adaptive control system. I was nineteen."
"My dad kept it until he died. I found it in a box years later."
She touched the edge of the image without moving it. "Did he ever talk about me?"
"Not much. He said you used to ask smart questions. He said you were kinder than you realized."
The compliment arrived so unexpectedly that Charlotte looked away. "And what did he say about my father?"
"That he trusted Richard Bennett once. Then he stopped."
"Did he tell you why?"