She decided not to force the conversation.
"All right. We'll begin with individual interviews. You can speak privately with David or me. If you are uncomfortable talking in the store, we can arrange another location. You can also submit written information."
She stood.
"One last thing. You do not have to defend the company to me. You do not have to make this sound better than it was. If something happened, say so. If you were afraid, say so. If you made a mistake, say so."
She paused.
"Silence protected the wrong people for too long. We are not asking for more silence."
Daniel Brooks was the first employee to request a private interview.
He worked in the stockroom, where he had spent four years organizing deliveries, inspecting incoming merchandise, and making sure the sales floor had the products customers requested.
He was twenty-eight, quiet, and generally regarded as dependable.
He sat across from Amara and David with his hands clasped tightly.
"Before we begin," Amara said, "I want you to know that your job is not in danger because you came here."
Daniel nodded.
"I understand."
"Tell me what you saw."
He took a moment.
"Victor had a list."
"What kind of list?"
"Not an official list. It was more like instructions. He talked about customer profiles during morning meetings."
"What did he say?"
Daniel looked toward David.
"He said we had to protect the store's image. He said we shouldn't let people waste the associates' time."
"What did he mean by waste?"
"People who came in wearing work clothes. People who carried big bags. Teenagers. People who asked a lot of questions about prices. People who wanted to see products but didn't ask about buying them."
Amara kept her expression neutral.
"Did he specifically tell you to watch those customers?"
"Yes."
"What were you supposed to do?"
"Pay attention. If they moved toward the expensive displays, we were supposed to tell an associate. If they asked for something that wasn't immediately available, we were supposed to see whether they were serious before bringing out additional inventory."
"How did you determine whether someone was serious?"
Daniel gave a humorless smile.
"That's the problem. We didn't have a real standard. Victor decided what serious looked like."
"Based on what?"
"Clothes. Shoes. Watches. Sometimes the way people talked."
Amara felt the familiar anger rise, but she kept her voice steady.
"Did he instruct employees to refuse assistance?"
"Not in those exact words. He said we had to be efficient. He told us not to encourage browsing if someone clearly wasn't going to buy."
"Did anyone object?"
Daniel nodded.
"Gloria did. Lauren did once. I asked him what we were supposed to do if a customer wanted help comparing products but wasn't ready to buy."
"What did he say?"
Daniel looked down.
"He said, 'You don't get paid to educate people who can't afford what we're selling.'"
David wrote the sentence down.
Amara remained still.
"Did you report it?"
"No."
"Why?"
Daniel's shoulders rose and fell.
"I needed the job."
"Did Victor threaten you?"
"Not directly. But he controlled the schedules. He could give you fewer hours. He could move you to the late shift. He could make you work every weekend."
"Did that happen to anyone?"
"Yes."
"Who?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Gloria."
Amara looked at him.
"Why?"
"She argued with him after he embarrassed a customer. A few days later, her schedule changed. She went from mostly daytime shifts to closing shifts."
"Did she complain?"
"She asked why. Victor told her she needed to demonstrate more flexibility."
"Did you witness that conversation?"
"I heard part of it."
Amara nodded.
"Anything else?"
Daniel took a folded piece of paper from his pocket.
"I brought something."
It was a printed photograph of a handbag strap.
The stitching had separated near the metal attachment, exposing a narrow strip of leather beneath it.
"What is this?"
"A product complaint."
"When did it happen?"
"About two months ago. A customer returned a handbag because the strap had started coming apart. I inspected it in the stockroom."
"What did you find?"
"The stitching was weak. It wasn't normal wear. I took a picture because I thought quality control needed to see it."
"Did they?"
"Victor told me to record it as customer misuse."
"Did you agree?"
"No."
"Then why was it recorded that way?"
Daniel looked ashamed.
"Because he told me to."
Amara glanced at David.
"Can we trace the item?"
"Yes," David said. "If Daniel has the product tag or order number."
Daniel reached into his pocket again and produced a small slip.
David examined it.
"This should be enough."
Amara looked back at Daniel.
"Why didn't you tell anyone earlier?"
Daniel's eyes dropped.
"Because I thought I would be the next person blamed."
The answer was quiet, but it carried more weight than a shouted accusation.
Amara leaned forward.
"I can't promise that speaking up will make every consequence disappear. But I can promise that you will not be punished for telling the truth."
Daniel nodded.
"I wish I'd done it sooner."