Chapter 6: The Call Thomas Reed Did Not Expect
Thomas Reed was in his study when his phone rang.
He was a man who kept his study the same way he kept his decisions — orderly, uncluttered, nothing on the desk that didn't need to be there.
He saw Marsh's name on the screen and set down his pen.
"Gerald," he said.
"Thomas." Marsh's voice had the careful evenness of someone choosing each word before releasing it.
"I think we need to talk about your daughter."
"I imagine we do."
A pause.
"You knew she was here."
"I knew she was looking into the merger," Thomas said.
"The method was her own."
"She's made allegations, Thomas.
Serious ones.
In front of my entire executive team and half of Chicago's financial community." Another pause, longer this time.
"I want to give you the opportunity to pull this back before it goes somewhere neither of us wants it to go."
Thomas picked up his pen.
Set it down again.
"What exactly are you offering, Gerald?"
"The merger proceeds as structured.
Your stake increases by four percent — we'll document it as a valuation adjustment, nothing unusual.
Your daughter is quietly reassigned, the documentation she gathered is reviewed internally, and we move forward.
Clean."
Thomas was quiet for a moment.
"Gerald," he said finally.
"My daughter spent eleven weeks in your building.
She photographed vendor invoices in a supply closet.
She read misfiled reports.
She tracked forty-one wire transfers to a shell company and connected that company to a pension fund that four thousand three hundred retired municipal workers depend on." He paused.
"And your response is to offer me four percent."
Silence on the line.
"I'm going to tell you something," Thomas continued.
"And I want you to hear it clearly.
I didn't ask Maya to go in herself.
That was her decision.
But I have read everything she sent me tonight, and I have already spoken to two members of the board and our family's legal counsel." His voice remained even throughout.
"There is nothing you can offer me that is worth more than what she found."
"Thomas—"
"The merger is paused.
The documentation is with the SEC.
And if you call me again tonight, I'll consider it an attempt to interfere with an active investigation."
He ended the call.
Across the city, in the back of a rideshare heading toward Grace Holloway's office, Maya's phone lit up with a text from her father.
*Marsh called.
I handled it.
Are you safe?*
She typed back: *Yes.
Grace found Carver.
On my way to her now.*
Three dots appeared.
Then: *I'll be there in an hour.*
Maya looked out the window at the Chicago skyline sliding past.
Eleven weeks of coffee orders and supply closets and keeping her face neutral while Claire Whitmore performed for an audience.
Eleven weeks of being invisible on purpose.
She allowed herself, for exactly the length of one city block, to feel how tired she was.
Then Grace called.
"I'm pulling up to your building," Maya said.
"Don't come up yet," Grace said.
Her voice had changed.
"There's someone here.
May you like
He says his name is Carver.
And Maya — he came to us."
