Lang’s pen stilled.
Shore blinked for the first time in ten minutes.
“What you saw was a snapshot. A selective slice—missing projections, missing context, missing the financial trajectory Falkirk’s been reviewing, and verifying,” I added. “internally for weeks. So before any of you condemn Elion—or Ms.Sinclair—we need to allow them to find the leak and seal it. Then we can move forward with specifics.”
That landed like a stone dropped onto the table.
Alicia sat back, the left side of her mouth tilting up instead of down.
Linda Cavanaugh’s foot stopped twitching beneath the table.
Even Ashford, eternally risk-averse, straightened with sudden alertness.
Nathan’s facade frayed. “This is all speculation,” he snapped.
I turned my head just enough to level a glare at him. “No.It’s the first logical conclusion anyone here has offered this morning. Elion deserves time to complete their internal review,” I continued. “Just as much as Falkirk deserves verified information before we issue another statement to the press.”
“How long do you propose we wait?” Shore asked, scribbling god knew what on a legal pad.
“Not long. Elion will provide a vetted packet—context, updated projections, corrected errors—before any public announcement, with a two-week deadline.”
A new audit—my version—precise and impressive enough to silence every critic in the room.
Shore opened his mouth again, but Scott Lang beat him to it.
“I agree,” he said. “We can’t afford a snap judgment. Elion’s technology in Falkirk’s hands could be substantial.”
Alicia nodded first.
Richard followed.
Then Linda.
Richter exhaled—the telltale, reluctant sound of a man shifting his weight onto the only stable ground left. “Fine,” he said. “End of next week. No later.”
Nathan tried to speak again, but the tide had already moved past him.
His supporters exchanged uncertain looks—Lang fiddling with his pen, Shore clearing his throat, Richter’s bravado thinning at the edges.
Agreement rippled across the table—tight-lipped, cautious, but real.
I folded my hands in front of me, fighting to keep my composure seamless.
By the end of next week, the leak would be a footnote. Davidson would be radioactive.
And Emma would walk into the Elion/Falkirk partnership signing with her reputation intact—and a truth no one would dare weaponize again.
“We’re done here,” I announced, pushing back my chair. Phone already in hand, mind already on Emma, I walked out and left them to choke on the silence.
Chapter 40
***
Emma
Elion was in chaos.
Half the employees hadn’t shown up. And the ones who had moved like shadows through the halls—waiting for someone to tell them whether their futures were already over.
