He turned back, and the sadness in his face was so naked that Diwa had to look away from it. This was Ezra, who had sat beside him in a dorm room in Palo Alto when they were nineteen and saidI think we can build something. Who had moved his whole life to the cadence of a company they’d made together. His name was on the incorporation documents right next to Diwa’s, because Orthos Analytics had never belonged to just one of them.
“I needed you, D.” Ezra’s voice had gone quiet. “And you weren’t there.”
Ezra’s hand gripped the back of the desk chair. “I know you were with Colin. I understand why you couldn’t answer. You were looking after him, and that matters.” His knuckleswhitened on the leather. “But Diwa, this is our company. This is the thing we built together, and while you were in Scotland, the board held an emergency session and they’ve voted you out.”
It was a good thing that Diwa was already sitting, because his legs had stopped feeling like they belonged to him.
“I argued your position.” Ezra’s voice had gone hoarse. “I told them you were temporarily unreachable because of a personal medical matter. They didn’t care.” Ezra’s head dropped between his shoulders. “They argued that the remediation proposal constituted an unauthorised admission of corporate liability that had materially damaged the company’s legal defence and that your absence during a crisis was dereliction of your duties as chairman. The vote was unanimous, D. Every single one of them voted you out.”
Ezra approached, and his hand landed on Diwa’s shoulder, squeezed once, and let go.
“The board’s settling the Oakland lawsuit on their terms,” Ezra revealed. “They plan to make a one-off payment, with no admission of liability. No third-party audit. No workers’ council involvement. They’re hollowing out your proposal.”
“How much are they handing over?”
“Twelve million.”
Diwa shook his head in disgust.Twelve million dollars, split across two hundred and forty workers who had spent years looking at material that would have broken most people inside a week. It worked out to around fifty thousand each before legal fees. For Orthos Analytics, that settlement was basically a rounding error on a balance sheet.
“I’m sorry, D.” Ezra’s voice cracked on the last syllable. He picked up his carry-on from the floor, slung it over one shoulder, and stood in the doorway with his hand on the frame. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
“No — thank you, Ez. For fighting my corner.”
“The good news, at least, is that they can’t touch your equity,” Ezra said. “Your stake’s intact, your vesting schedule, all of it. You’re worth exactly what you were worth yesterday. You just don’t have a seat anymore. No vote. No voice in operational decisions. No access to the boardroom… Means fewer meetings, at least,” he joked.
“I get it, Ez.”
He stood up from the arm of the sofa and pressed himself shoulder to shoulder against Ezra, the way they’d stood at the whiteboard in Palo Alto. Ezra’s shoulder pressed back, a small show of solidarity.
“So you stay,” Diwa said. “You stay inside Orthos, and you set the path going forward. Next contract, next site, next time they’re scoping a moderation queue, you make sure someone in that room is asking the right questions. As long as you’re there, it doesn’t happen like this again.”
Ezra nodded. “Are you going to be all right?”
“I’m going to have to be.” Diwa shrugged. “I mean, come on. I’ve still got the equity. I’ve got the network and more capital than I know what to do with. I built this whole thing once already. And I’ve got Colin, who’s not going to let me feel sorry for myself for too long. I’m a builder, Ez. I’ll figure something out.”
The words came out with the shape of his old confidence, the pitch-deck bravado that had carried him from Palo Alto to a fourteen-billion-dollar valuation.
Ezra pulled him into a hug. It was tight and brief. Ezra hooked his chin onto Diwa’s shoulder, gave him one hard clap on the back, and let go.
“We’re going to do yoga tomorrow,” Ezra said.
“Yeah.”
“And we’ll get Colin in on it.”
Diwa laughed. “Ez. We built a company together to a fucking crazy valuation.” He shook his head. “But even the two of us have no hope of getting that man onto a yoga mat.”
Diwa walked Ezra to the door. They hugged once more on the threshold, then Diwa headed down the hall to where he could hear Colin moving about in the kitchen.
Colin was at the island with a fresh mug of Barry’s in his hand. He looked up at the sound of his approach, and whatever he saw in Diwa’s face made him set the mug down without taking a sip.
Diwa crossed the kitchen and dropped onto the stool beside him, and then he kept going. His forehead came to rest against Colin’s shoulder, and the rest of him followed in a slow controlled fold until his face was pressed into the soft cotton of Colin’s T-shirt and his hand had hooked itself loosely around Colin’s fingers.
Colin’s free hand came up and settled on the back of Diwa’s neck, his fingers light against his hairline. “You good?” Colin asked.
“Yeah.”
Colin’s thumb traced a single slow stroke against the nape of his neck. “Yeah?”
