“Tell him.”
Graham did not move.
“Tell him this is a mistake.”
Graham’s eyes remained fixed on the floor.
When he finally spoke, his voice sounded older.
“Did you touch her documents?”
Rebecca stared.
“What?”
“The documents.”
“That’s what you’re asking me?”
“Yes.”
She laughed once.
“He says my accounts are frozen.”
“And I’m asking whether you threw court papers onto the floor.”
Rebecca’s mouth opened.
Graham looked toward Imani.
“Ms. Brooks.”
Imani straightened.
“Yes?”
“I apologize for what happened in this lobby.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened.
“You’re apologizing to her?”
Graham turned.
“Stop talking.”
The sentence cut through the room.
Rebecca stopped.
Imani watched Graham carefully.
He was fifty-eight.
White.
Silver hair.
Charcoal suit.
Vice chairman for private wealth operations.
One of the most powerful men inside Sterling Crown.
His face showed shock.
But not enough.
Imani had spent fifteen years watching people react to financial disaster.
Executives who truly learned for the first time that millions had disappeared usually asked questions.
How much?
Which accounts?
When?
Graham had asked about the papers.
Interesting.
Daniel looked toward the branch director.
“Ms. Lee?”
Margaret Lee stepped forward.
“Yes.”
“You are now the designated on-site custodian for preservation.”
Margaret swallowed.
“All right.”
“No employee with access named in the order may log into a workstation.”
“Understood.”
“No external drives.”
“Yes.”
“No phones used to photograph records.”
“Yes.”
“No shredding.”
“Yes.”
“Call IT.”
Margaret nodded.
“Already did.”
Imani looked toward Graham.
His eyes moved toward her.
For a second neither spoke.
Then Rebecca said:
“This is insane.”
Daniel turned.
“Ms. Sloan.”
“You should stop.”
“I have done nothing.”
Imani finally picked up the last page.
She slid it back into the folder.
Rebecca looked at her.
“What are you accusing me of?”
Imani answered:
“Nothing yet.”
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“My accounts are frozen.”
“Because a judge saw enough evidence to preserve them.”
“That is not the same as proving anything.”
“No.”
Imani’s voice remained calm.
“It isn’t.”
Rebecca seemed surprised.
She had expected accusation.
Not precision.
Imani continued:
“And if you are innocent, preserving the records protects you too.”
Rebecca stared.
Then something in her expression shifted.
Fear.
Not anger.
Not humiliation.
Fear.
She looked at the clock mounted behind the reception desk.
10:01.
Imani noticed.
Rebecca looked toward Graham.
He looked at the clock too.
Imani noticed that as well.
Daniel was speaking to Margaret.
The teller was being moved away from her station.