Chapter 7 — He Tried To Fix It Overnight. It Was Already Too Late.
Derek worked until eleven o'clock that night.
He pulled every financial report from the past six months. He went through the Q3 presentation line by line. He identified the commission entries that had no supporting contracts and drafted a memo — dated that day — describing them as transitional arrangements pending formal documentation.
He knew it wouldn't hold. But he needed something on paper.
He also drafted a message to the two board members he believed were still persuadable, explaining that the current governance review was a mischaracterization of normal operational discretion and requesting a preliminary conversation before the full board session.
He sent the message at eleven forty-five.
One did not reply that night.
The other replied at eleven fifty-eight with four words: See you in the morning.
Derek went home.
He arrived at the office at seven fifteen the next day. He had his lawyer on a video call by seven thirty. He reviewed his talking points. He organized his documentation into a folder and had his assistant make three copies.
At eight, he received confirmation that both board members he'd messaged had already spoken with Margaret Voss the previous evening.
At eight thirty, he received word that the company's chief legal counsel — not his own retained counsel, the company's own — had been in contact with Ray Colton's representative and had reviewed the submitted documentation in full.
At nine, Bryce arrived at his office door looking pale.
"I got a message from legal," Bryce said. "They want me available for a meeting this afternoon. What's going on?"
"It's a review," Derek said. "Cooperate fully and be accurate."
Bryce stared at him.
"How accurate?" Bryce asked.
Derek looked at him.
"Completely accurate," he said.
Bryce left.
Derek sat at his desk and looked at the folder of documentation he had prepared. Forty pages of careful construction, assembled in a single night, designed to provide alternative explanations for decisions that had not been made in the open.
He thought about forty-one pages assembled over six weeks by a man who had been in the building every morning and whom no one had ever looked at.
He opened his folder to the first page.
Then he closed it again.
At nine thirty, he walked into the board room.
Ray Colton was already seated at the table.
He was wearing a dark blue sweater. No tie. No suit. He had a notebook in front of him, open to the first page.
He looked exactly like himself.
Derek had known Ray Colton for two years before the handover. He had studied the man, studied his style, studied what had made the company what it was. He had always thought of the founder as someone who operated from the top — vision statements, strategic direction, the language of leadership.
He had not thought of him as someone who would get down on his hands and knees and spend six weeks watching from the floor.
He should have.
He sat down across the table.
Ray looked at him and said nothing.
He simply waited.