Elena watched him work. If she didn’t know better, she might have believed him.
On the other side of the room, board members seemed to exhale almost in unison. David’s explanation was their lifeline. If everyone accepted it, they could all move on and try to forget about this uncomfortable blip in their day.
“Interesting that you mention the budget.” She pulled up a document on the screen. This was it. The final missing puzzle piece she couldn’t find at first.
“This is from Bridgepoint’s 2017 proxy statement, filed with the SEC. Your compensation package as the CFO of Bridgepoint.”
She scrolled to a highlighted section. “There’s an interesting clause here. One that you proposed and the board approved. Your bonus compensation is increased for every department that comes in under budget.”
David shifted in his seat.
“The research division has come in under budget every single year since this went into effect.”
Elena scrolled further. “What’s notably absent is any incentive tied to research outcomes, patient satisfaction, or clinical success. No bonus for treatments that work.” She looked up at David. His normal smugness was gone.“Just cost reduction.”
She turned to address the rest of the board. “The research department isn’t the only one at Bridgepoint. There are clinics, nursing homes, mental health services. I wouldn’t be surprised if the same pattern exists across the entire organization.”
The look on their faces all but confirmed her theory. The silence stretched until David straightened in his chair.
"This has been quite the presentation," he said, his tone condescending. "You two clearly worked very hard on this. Really impressive slides." He leaned back, regaining his composure. "But here's the reality: everyone in this room reports to me.” He looked at the members of the board. “This stays between us."
The board members exchanged uncomfortable glances. No one spoke. David looked around, clearly confused. It was like he was the only one in the room left out of an inside joke.
Paul cleared his throat. "Actually, I should remind everyone that this meeting is being recorded." He paused, letting that sink in. "I mentioned this earlier, while Mr. Turner was on his phone. All research presentations are recorded per institutional policy."
David's face went blank. His eyes found the camera in the corner of the room, the small red recording light blinking steadily.
"The recording began when Dr. Herrera started presenting," Paul continued, his tone perfectly neutral. "And will continue until we formally adjourn."
David looked as though he'd been struck.
Eric stood up. "Let the record show that I heavily dislike David Turner."
"I believe you already covered that at minute fifteen," Paul replied, consulting his notes with exaggerated thoroughness. "And I quote, 'Shut up bitch.'"
Eric nodded thoughtfully, sitting back down. "Just wanted to be thorough for the record."
He had impeccable timing, Elena had to admit. Every time that David faltered, Eric was right there to make it worse.
Finn caught Elena’s eye and gestured toward David. It was her turn. And she was going to knock him out. Not withemotion, not with anger, but with facts that couldn’t be dismissed. She stood.
"The evidence presented today documents a clear pattern," Elena stated, her voice controlled. "Protocols were systematically compressed beyond what researchers deemed safe or effective. Appeals for extensions were denied using identical language, regardless of the specific concerns raised."
She moved to stand beside Finn, their shoulders nearly touching as they presented a united front. "This isn't about a single patient or a single protocol. This is about a pattern of decisions that prioritized bonus structures over patient outcomes, financial metrics over research integrity, personal gain over institutional ethics."
She paused, waiting until David would finally look her in the eye. “You created a system that rewarded you for causing irreparable harm. To patients. To their families. To Bridgepoint itself. All for personal profit.”
Then she found the camera, ensuring her words would be preserved. "The harm done extends beyond patients like Finn's brother. It includes researchers whose careers were derailed when their protocols 'failed,' families who watched loved ones suffer without effective treatment, and ultimately, the scientific advancement that might have helped thousands more if these protocols had been given the time they required."
She paused, letting her words settle over the room. "We're not asking for sympathy. We're asking for accountability."
Elena looked around the room, savoring this moment. The disappointment on the faces of the board. This was clearly not how they expected their afternoon to go. Then she found Paul. Normally he was the pinnacle of professionalism, but in this moment, he wore an expression of childlike glee. And finally David. His head wasin his hands.
Then he looked up, eyes darting back and forth. Until they narrowed on Elena.
"If we're so focused on accountability today, then maybe we should look at you too for a second, Elena."
The room stilled.
