Some angry.
Then complaints from other branches began arriving.
That was the part nobody celebrated.
The scandal had not created problems elsewhere.
It had created permission to report them.
Dallas.
Phoenix.
Boston.
Toronto.
Atlanta.
Not identical.
Some minor.
Some serious.
One executive called the CEO.
“This is becoming a flood.”
She replied:
“No.”
“It was already a flood.”
“We just stopped pretending the basement was dry.”
The board chairman quoted her for months.
She told him to stop.
The most important conversation happened two weeks later.
The young analyst from the Chicago floor asked for a private meeting.
She entered the CEO’s temporary office holding a notebook.
The CEO offered coffee.
She declined.
Then said:
“I was the second complaint.”
The CEO looked at her.
“The forecast incident?”
The analyst nodded.
“I questioned numbers in front of a client team.”
“The director said I embarrassed leadership.”
“The next day she made me clean chairs in conference room C.”
“I’m sorry.”
The analyst’s jaw tightened.
“Please stop saying that.”
The CEO paused.
“Okay.”
“I know you mean it.”
“But everybody powerful keeps apologizing.”
“I don’t need apologies.”
“What do you need?”
The analyst opened her notebook.
“Answers.”
The CEO leaned back.
“Ask.”
“Why did it take the CEO coming in costume for anybody to believe us?”