"Good."
Evan looked at Naomi.
"There's another option."
"What?"
"Press conference."
The PR director nearly choked.
"Absolutely not."
Naomi considered it.
"When?"
Evan checked his watch.
"Three o'clock."
At 3:02 p.m., Naomi Brooks stepped behind a podium in Carrington Plaza.
Dozens of cameras faced her.
Evan stood several feet behind.
But Naomi stood alone at the microphone.
"My name is Naomi Brooks."
Camera shutters clicked.
"Six years ago, I was accused of authorizing financial transactions I did not authorize."
A reporter shouted a question.
Naomi raised her hand.
"You'll have time for questions."
The room quieted.
"I lost my career because of those allegations."
She paused.
"I spent years believing that if I worked quietly, cared for my family, and stayed away from the people who hurt me, eventually the past would stop following me."
Naomi looked directly into the cameras.
"I was wrong."
She explained the records.
The authentication discrepancies.
Her father's investigation.
The newly discovered forensic findings.
She didn't dramatize.
She didn't attack.
She presented facts.
When she finished, Margaret distributed copies of verified documents to journalists.
Questions erupted.
Then one reporter asked:
"Ms. Brooks, are you accusing Richard Halston of framing you?"
Naomi paused.
"No."
The reporters looked surprised.
"I'm saying evidence exists that contradicts the allegations made against me. Investigators can determine who was responsible."
Evan watched her.
Grace without weakness.
Precision without fear.
She was doing what he had failed to do from the beginning.
She was treating people according to facts instead of assumptions.
Then the doors opened.
Two federal investigators entered.
Margaret stood immediately.
One of them approached Naomi.
"Ms. Brooks?"
"Yes?"
"We'd like to speak with you regarding the Halston Capital investigation."
Every camera turned.
Naomi's heart pounded.
"Am I under investigation?"
"No, ma'am."
The agent lowered his voice.
"We believe you may be a key witness."
A wave of whispers swept through the room.
Then he said something that changed everything.
"The financial activity your father documented didn't stop six years ago."
Naomi stared at him.
"What do you mean?"
"We've identified similar transactions involving multiple companies."
"How much?"
The investigator hesitated.
"Potentially hundreds of millions of dollars."
Naomi felt the room tilt.
This was bigger than her.
Bigger than her ruined career.
Bigger than Richard's five-million-dollar offer.
Her father hadn't stumbled onto a few illegal transfers.
He had uncovered the edge of something enormous.
The investigator continued.
"And there's one more thing."
Naomi waited.
"We recovered correspondence suggesting someone inside Halston knew your father was collecting evidence before he died."
Naomi stopped breathing.
Across the room, Evan's expression changed.
"What are you saying?" Naomi whispered.
The agent chose his words carefully.
"We're not making conclusions about his death."
A pause.
"But we're reopening every relevant record from that period."
Naomi's knees nearly weakened.
Her father's face flashed through her mind.
His laugh.
His old work boots by the door.
The way he always called her "Professor" after she earned her degree.
For six years, Naomi had accepted his death as one more tragedy life had handed her.
Now she wasn't sure what to believe.
The reporters began shouting questions.
Naomi heard none of them.
Evan stepped toward her.
"Naomi."
She looked at him.
The gala seemed like another lifetime.
Only six days earlier, this man had invited her into his world because he thought humiliating a cleaner would entertain his friends.
Now that same invitation had reopened the investigation that could clear her name.
Naomi looked toward the cameras.
Then at the investigators.
Then down at the USB drive her father had left behind.
She finally understood.
This had never been merely a story about getting her career back.
Her father had risked something to uncover the truth.
And Naomi intended to finish what he had started.
Outside Carrington Plaza, another development was already unfolding.
Three black government vehicles pulled toward Halston Capital headquarters.
Employees gathered at the windows.
Richard Halston stood inside his forty-first-floor office as his attorney rushed through the door.
"They're here."
Richard didn't move.
"Who?"
"Federal investigators."
For the first time in decades, Richard Halston looked frightened.
His attorney lowered his voice.
"They have the Brooks files."
Richard slowly turned toward the windows.
"And Naomi?"
"She's cooperating."
Richard closed his eyes.
Years earlier, he had believed Naomi Brooks was powerless.
Then he watched her lose her title.
Her income.
Her reputation.
Her place in the world he controlled.
He assumed that meant he had won.
What Richard had never understood was that Naomi's power had never come from her title.
And now the woman he had dismissed was standing at the center of an investigation capable of destroying everything he had built.
Back at Carrington Plaza, Naomi walked away from the podium.
Evan followed her into the hallway.
"Are you okay?"
Naomi almost said yes.
Instead, she told the truth.
"No."
Evan waited.
"I'm terrified."
"You don't have to do this alone."
Naomi looked at him for a long moment.
"Maybe not."
It wasn't forgiveness.
Not yet.
But it was something.