When I reach her office, the door is closed. I knock once and enter without waiting. Remy sits at her desk, staring at her laptop screen. Her face is pale, and her hands are clenched so tight in her lap that her knuckles have gone white.
I cross the room in four strides. “What happened?”
She doesn’t look at me. “I got a message.”
“From who?”
She turns the laptop toward me. The email is brief.
I know what you did. I know it was you who sent those files to the SEC. We need to talk about what you cost me.
No signature. The sender’s address is a string of random characters, clearly a burner account.
“Who sent this?” My voice comes out harder than intended.
Remy’s throat works as she swallows. “Stanley Trent. He ran Dustridge Industries, the company I left before I came to work here.”
My mind immediately goes into problem-solving mode. “Is it true? You just said your prior job asked you to perform duties that you believed were unethical. You never told us the full details about why you left.”
“Yes, it’s true. I found evidence of fraud, and it was hurting innocent people.” She closes the laptop, like that will make the message disappear. “I realized the company was either complicit or wouldn’t do anything about it. So I quit and waited three months to report the fraud, so they wouldn’t suspect me, and sent everything to the SEC anonymously.”
I pull up a chair, positioning myself close enough to see her face. “And Trent?”
“Arrested. Indicted. And he was released on bail. He is still awaiting his trial.” Her fingers twist together. “The prosecution has my evidence, but they don’t know I’m the source. I made sure of it. But if Trent figured it out?—”
“He’s making threats.” I finish the thought, anger coiling in my gut. “How would he have found you?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice cracks slightly. “I was careful. I used VPNs, routing protocols, everything.” She stops, and I watch her try to pull herself together. Her breathing is too fast, and panic edges her features.
“Remy.” I wait until she looks at me. “Breathe.”
“I am breathing.”
“Slower. Like this.” I demonstrate, exaggerating the motion. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
She follows my lead, and after a few cycles, color begins to return to her cheeks.
“Better?”
She nods. “Sorry. But when I saw that email, I didn’t know who else to go to.”
“Don’t apologize.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “Tell me about Trent. Everything.”
Remy takes another breath, steadier this time. “He’s dangerous. Not physically violent that I know of, but he’s vindictive. When the board started investigating, he destroyed evidence and intimidated witnesses. Two people who were going to testify against him had their careers ruined.”
“And you think he’ll come after you the same way.”
“I think he’ll do worse.” Her hands are still shaking. “He lost everything. His job, his reputation, and his freedom are at stake if the prosecution gets their conviction. If he knows I’m responsible?—”
“He won’t touch you.” The certainty in my voice makes her look up.
“I’m scared.”
“He won’t touch you,” I repeat. “I won’t let him.”
She shakes her head. “You can’t promise that.”
“Yes, I can.” I lean closer. “You work for us.”
