I nodded.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then I asked, "Would you have reviewed the incident this thoroughly if there hadn't been a video?"
Catherine's expression changed.
She looked down.
For a moment, I thought she might offer a polished answer about company policy.
Instead, she said quietly, "I don't know."
I appreciated the honesty.
She continued.
"And that's something we need to correct."
I nodded.
Then she asked whether I intended to return.
I looked toward the window.
For months, the restaurant had provided stability when my professional career seemed over.
The job mattered.
The people mattered.
Especially Teresa.
But now I was facing a complicated financial dispute, possible legal proceedings, and growing public attention.
I didn't know whether I could manage all of it while working full-time shifts.
"I'd like to take some time to decide," I said.
Catherine nodded.
"That's reasonable."
When I left, I felt something unfamiliar.
Choice.
For months, I had felt trapped between accepting humiliation and losing income.
Now, for the first time, I had enough information and support to consider what I wanted to do next.
Raymond Lam contacted Rachel the following week.
He didn't call me directly.
He respected the fact that I had asked for communication through counsel.
His legal team wanted to understand my previous role in the transaction and determine whether I could provide relevant testimony or information through lawful means.
Rachel arranged a meeting at her office.
Mr. Lam attended with Irene Ho and a senior finance executive named Grace Yip.
Grace was forty-eight, a highly respected financial professional who had worked with Jade Harbor for more than a decade.
She understood the transaction better than anyone else at the meeting.
The modernization reserve had been part of her team's original investment model.
When she learned that the final schedule might redirect it, she was furious.
But she was also disciplined.
She didn't want assumptions.
She wanted records.
I arrived wearing a simple navy blouse and black trousers.
My hair was pulled back.
No apron.
No restaurant uniform.
For a moment, it felt strange to enter a conference room as someone whose knowledge mattered rather than someone expected to carry water.
Mr. Lam stood when I entered.
"Miss Bennett."
I smiled politely.
"Mr. Lam."
He extended his hand.
I shook it.
Then he spoke in Cantonese.
"多謝你嗰日提醒我。"
Thank you for warning me that day.
I felt my throat tighten.
"唔使客氣。"
You're welcome.
He smiled.
Then gestured toward a chair.
We sat.
Rachel explained the boundaries of the conversation.
Irene agreed.
The purpose was to establish what I personally observed during my former employment and at the restaurant, not to have me disclose records I wasn't authorized to provide.
Grace opened a folder.