The Room, After
Nobody spoke for what felt like a very long time.
Isabel Pruitt was the one who finally broke it, sliding the folder toward herself with two fingers, scanning the screenshot, the version history, the timestamps. Her face didn't change much — she'd built a twenty-year career on not letting her face change much — but her jaw set in a way Naomi recognized as a door closing somewhere behind it.
"Gerald," Isabel said. "You're going to want to sit back down."
He didn't. "This is a misunderstanding built on the word of a woman who was let go for cause almost a decade ago, and a junior colleague who's clearly under a great deal of stress."
"The metadata isn't under stress," Isabel said. "Sit down."
He sat.
What followed took three weeks, not one meeting — HR interviews, a call to Celia that ended in her crying on the phone, quietly, with something that sounded almost like relief; a call to Desh Okonkwo, who said, simply, I always knew it wasn't just me; a much harder conversation with Priyanka Sethi, whose "irregular timesheets" turned out to have been altered two days before her termination, timestamp and all. Robbie Osei, tracked down through a mutual contact, sent one line back: Took you eight years, Castellanos. Better late than never.
Gerald didn't get fired that morning. He resigned eleven days later, framed in an internal memo as "pursuing new opportunities," which made Naomi laugh out loud, alone at her desk, for the first time in weeks.
Talia got the promotion in the end — delayed, but real, voted through unanimously once the committee understood exactly what "the Whitmore hiccup" had actually been. She found Naomi afterward by the elevators, eyes wet, and didn't say thank you, exactly. What she said was:
"I would've believed him. Right up until the room."
"I know," Naomi said. "I did too. For eight years."
They didn't put up a new pin ceremony for Talia. Naomi suggested, quietly, that maybe Bellwood retire the crescent altogether — too many names pinned to it that nobody had bothered to ask about again.
Instead, on Talia's first day running her own team, Naomi left a single note on her desk, no ceremony, no applause, just four words in her own handwriting:
Ask about the others.