Chapter 3

"Let it go," I said, my voice flat. "It wasn't anything official anyway. The real problem with that data interface is that the server keeps having these periodic hiccups.

"We set up a dynamic delay threshold, and the parameters are in a folder called 'temp' on my old desktop, in a text file. If she can't find that, then..."

I trailed off, not bothering to finish. Alex got the message, and his face fell even more. "Caro, you have no idea. The tech department's been in chaos these past few days.

"Ms. Hawkins insists on running things her way, with all those 'advanced management processes' she picked up overseas.

"The meetings are endless, the slides are gorgeous, but nothing gets fixed.

"Jackson went to talk to her about the contract and nearly got into a fight, saying she doesn't understand how things work here and is bossing everyone around.

"Justin from the legal team is pretending to be sick now and won't even answer his phone."

"That's not surprising," I said with a faint smile. That was what I'd expected.

Grace parachuted in with all the hype, eager to make a splash and assert her authority, classic move.

The only problem was that she picked the wrong fuel. The mess I left behind looked tidy on the surface.

But underneath, it was riddled with traps only I knew how to avoid. Grace had the chart, but couldn't make sense of the danger signs.

"By the way," Alex suddenly remembered, dropping his voice to a whisper, "for that thing you wanted me to watch, something's happening.

"Two days ago, Ms. Hawkins took her assistant up to the small conference room upstairs, the one with the spare safe.

"They stayed in there nearly the whole afternoon. When they came out, her assistant was holding a thick file folder."

I drummed my fingers on the cold glass. Small conference room, the safe, it looked like Grace did pay attention to what I said about Mary before I left.

But I had no idea whether she was making sure the safe was secure, or digging around to see what was inside.

"What about Mary?" I asked.

"Mary?" Alex looked confused for a second and got it. "Oh, the cleaning lady? She's still around, as far as I know. No one's said anything about her getting fired.

"But yesterday, I heard the admin folks griping. Ms. Hawkins complained that the cleaning stuff Mary used smelled too strongly and told her to switch.

"Mary muttered that the new stuff costs more, and Ms. Hawkins' assistant overheard, gave her a hard time, told her to remember her place."

At that, I curled my lips into a half-smirk. For some people, the lines were drawn sharply, status and rank, crystal clear, no room for gray.

They'd never understand that sometimes, it was the ones at the bottom who held the keys that could bring the whole tower crashing down.

"Alex," I said, meeting his eyes, "things are probably going to get messier over there for a while.

"Focus on your own work and don't try to be a hero. Keep those backups I had you make safe, and don't let anyone else know about them."

Alex nodded hard. "Don't worry, Caro. The hard drive's locked up at home, and only I know the cloud password."

He hesitated and then looked at me. "Caro, are you planning to do this all by yourself? If you need help, say the word. I can handle the tech stuff."

My heart gave a little tug. Alex was someone I'd brought up myself, honest, hardworking, a bit stubborn sometimes. But it wasn't the right time yet.

"Not yet," I said, shaking my head. "Stay there. Your eyes and ears are more important than your hands right now.

"Once I get things set up here, if I really need you, I won't hesitate to ask."

We caught up for a bit. Then, Alex, looking every bit the undercover agent, tugged his cap down and made a quick exit.

I stayed behind in the café, watching the stream of young people rushing through the business district outside.

Some faces lit up with dreams for the future, while others showed the exhaustion of being ground down by work. All of them were vivid and real.

My new "company" was tucked away on the third floor of an old factory building converted into office space, right in the corner of the business district.

It wasn't huge, 1,300 square feet, and for now, it was only a part-time accounting girl and me.

The walls were freshly painted white, a few secondhand desks were scattered around, and the computers were basic models. It felt empty, even a little shabby.

But as I stood in front of the brand-new glass door, looking at the simple sign that read "C&L Consulting," I felt a deep sense of peace.

There was no grandeur or complicated web of politics like at headquarters, but there was also no daily backstabbing and suspicion. Every breath of air here was mine.

My phone rang again. This time, it was an unfamiliar landline, the area code showing it was from the headquarters city. I picked up.

"Hello, is this Caroline?" A somewhat familiar middle-aged woman's voice came through, low and a little shaky, as if she was nervous on purpose.

She said, "I'm Della Black, the secretary from the executive office. Do you remember me?"

Della? I quickly ran through my memory. She was a veteran secretary in the chairman's office, always cautious, always had her ear to the ground.

But she kept a low profile and rarely crossed paths with those of us on the operations side.