She met with sales associates.
Reviewed training.
And asked whether staff had the tools and authority necessary to do their jobs properly.
Some visits were encouraging.
Others revealed problems that still needed attention.
Not every employee liked the new processes.
Some found additional documentation inconvenient.
Managers complained about the time required to complete verification steps.
And customers occasionally became impatient when valuable pieces couldn't be released instantly.
Diana listened.
She accepted that procedures should be efficient.
But she refused to treat inconvenience as sufficient reason to eliminate essential safeguards.
She also asked independent reviewers to examine whether customers were being treated more consistently.
The results improved over time.
Complaint resolution became more thorough.
Employees reported greater confidence in raising concerns.
And management evaluations began including meaningful measures of conduct rather than focusing only on revenue.
The company still made mistakes.
Diana expected that.
What mattered was whether people could identify those mistakes, correct them, and learn before the harm became greater.
Clara Whitmore decided to reduce her hours after the next annual gala.
She had spent more than three decades working with jewelry.
Her hands were still steady.
Her eye for craftsmanship remained exceptional.
But she wanted more time with her grandchildren and a little less time worrying about late-night restoration schedules.
Diana supported the decision.
They met in Evelyn's original workshop, where Clara had agreed to continue mentoring apprentices several days each month.
The old wooden bench stood beneath the window.
Several students were working quietly at nearby stations.
Diana looked toward Clara.
"Are you sure you're ready to step away from full-time work?"
The older woman laughed.
"Diana, I've been saying that for ten years."
They both smiled.
Then Clara grew serious.
"I wanted to leave you something."
She handed Diana a small leather notebook.
Diana opened it.
Inside were sketches.
Measurements.
Notes about gemstone settings.
And photographs of early pieces Evelyn created.
Diana looked up.
"Where did you find this?"
Clara smiled.
"Your mother gave it to me when we were working on the first collection."
Diana turned another page.
Several designs looked familiar.
Then she found a small handwritten note.
If this business ever becomes more interested in proving who belongs than helping people create beautiful things, somebody needs to remind Diana why we started.
Diana froze.
For several seconds, she stared at the handwriting.
Then looked toward Clara.
Her eyes filled.
Clara smiled sadly.
"She knew you'd build something big."
Diana laughed through tears.
"Apparently she knew it would become complicated too."
The older woman nodded.
"She knew people."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Diana closed the notebook.
"Thank you."
Clara reached for her hand.