Every account felt exposed.
Every document contaminated.
But she was right.
Preserve first.
Act second.
I nodded.
“There’s something else,” I said.
I told her about Claire.
The legitimate email.
The resignation.
The fake domain.
Ruiz wrote it down.
“Would Ms. Donnelly know about your controlling interest in Apex?”
“Yes.”
“Would she know you planned to leave your husband?”
I hesitated.
“Yes.”
Liam looked at me.
“You told her?”
“She was auditing a company whose chief executive lived with me. I had to explain why access was limited.”
“You trusted her.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.”
Ruiz closed her notebook.
“We’ll need to speak with her.”
A tiny unease moved through me.
“Bell has her contact information.”
“We’ll handle that.”
She stood.
“I want you to get some rest.”
I almost argued.
Then I saw Liam’s expression.
“Fine.”
Ruiz gave me a card.
“My direct number is on the back. If Mr. Hayes contacts you, do not delete anything. You are not obligated to respond.”
“He’ll contact me.”
“Maybe.”
“He will.”
Ruiz studied me for a moment.
“Then let him decide what he wants to put in writing.”
After she left, Liam stayed.
He turned off the overhead light and sat by the window.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” I said.
“Good. I wasn’t planning to.”
“What are you doing?”
“Enjoying this excellent chair.”
I looked at the narrow hospital recliner.
“You’re six foot two.”
“I like a challenge.”
“You have work tomorrow.”
“I am the chief.”
“That doesn’t mean you can disappear.”
“It means I have an administrative structure filled with highly capable people who frequently remind me that the department will not collapse if I go home.”
“Will it?”
“Probably.”
I smiled.
Then winced.
“Don’t make me laugh.”
“I’ll try to become less charming.”
“You’ve had forty-three years to practice.”
“Sleep, Maya.”
For a while, I listened to the soft hum of the room.
The occasional footsteps outside.
Liam shifting in the chair.
My thoughts kept circling the fake portal.
Who knew?
Claire.
Possibly Ethan.
Someone inside Halden.
Someone inside Apex.
My audit had looked backward at four years of payments.
But the deception around me was current.
Active.
Careful.
I slept in fragments.
At 2:14 a.m., I woke from a dream about my father’s office.
He was sitting behind his old walnut desk, sorting papers into piles.
I kept asking what he was looking for.
He wouldn’t answer.
At 3:02, a nurse checked my blood pressure.
At 4:36, I heard Liam snoring softly and nearly cried from the ordinary comfort of it.
At 6:11, my borrowed hospital phone rang.
I froze.
Liam woke immediately.
Neither of us moved.
The phone rang again.
A nurse had left it on the table after arranging it for me.
Only a few people knew the number.
I looked at Liam.
