His retirement wasn't an attempt to escape responsibility.
He'd participated in the independent reviews, supported corrective action, and helped establish clearer governance procedures.
Now he wanted others to carry the work forward.
At his farewell gathering, he spoke about the company's early years.
The unreliable equipment.
The small offices.
The first major contracts.
And the engineers who worked through nights because customers depended on their systems.
Then he mentioned Lorraine.
For a moment, his expression softened.
"She was the most difficult person I ever worked with."
Several people laughed.
Wei smiled.
"Because she insisted that whenever we presented an impressive financial result, we also explain what was happening beneath the number."
He paused.
"Sometimes that was inconvenient."
More laughter.
Then he became serious.
"Usually, she was asking exactly the question we needed to answer."
Nia stood near the back of the room.
Her eyes filled.
Wei continued.
"When she died, I believed we'd lost one of the people most willing to challenge us."
For a moment, he looked toward Nia.
"Then her daughter reminded us that responsibility doesn't disappear when the person who first accepted it is gone."
The room became quiet.
Nia lowered her eyes.
Wei smiled gently.
"And perhaps the most important thing she reminded us is that intelligence, character, and authority do not always arrive wearing the clothes we expect."
Several people applauded.
Nia felt her throat tighten.
She thought of Lorraine standing beside a whiteboard.
Her mother's insistence on checking every abnormal result.
And the way she asked who would suffer if a system failed.
For the first time, the memory didn't hurt quite as sharply.
It felt like something she could carry forward.
Nia eventually used part of her own professional earnings to establish a small educational fund supporting students interested in applied mathematics, languages, and technical fields.
She named it for Lorraine.
The fund was modest at first.
It didn't award enormous scholarships or solve the financial problems facing every student.
It provided practical assistance.
Books.
Examination fees.
Short training opportunities.
And mentorship from people working in technical and financial professions.
Nia deliberately kept the project separate from the employee-benefit trust and its restricted assets.
She wanted the distinction to remain clear.
The trust existed for its beneficiaries under defined obligations.
Her educational initiative was something she chose to build with resources she was personally entitled to use.
At the first scholarship gathering, a seventeen-year-old student approached her.
The girl worked part-time at a grocery store while preparing to study engineering.
She looked nervous.
"Can I ask you something?"