She wasn't responsible for negotiating the entire transaction.
But she read enough to understand that the founder consent provisions were important.
When the first draft referred to Samuel Brooks's prior approval, Leah requested supporting documentation.
The response was incomplete.
She asked again.
Then she received a file containing an old signature specimen associated with a different transaction.
The document dated from years before Samuel's death.
Leah flagged it.
She explained that an historical signature could not establish a new personal authorization.
A senior lawyer told her the issue would be handled by the corporate legal team.
She documented the response.
Then continued working.
Several days later, she reviewed a draft that asserted the required consent was effective through the stewardship structure.
Again, she asked for confirmation that the relevant successor authority had been properly identified and that the legal effect of the old instruments had been assessed.
The reply was vague.
Then the deal deadline approached.
Late on October 27, Leah received the final certificate for inclusion in the execution package.
She opened it.
Read the date.
And froze.
Samuel Brooks's personal signature appeared beneath an execution date more than three years after his death.
Leah immediately sent a written warning to her supervising partner and the Northstar legal team.
She identified the inconsistency and recommended that the certificate not be circulated for execution until the authority and documentation were verified.
She received no substantive response before the next morning.
Then the board meeting began.
When she heard it had been stopped, she initially felt relief.
But that evening, she discovered the internal account of the problem described the signature as a minor administrative error that no lawyer had previously identified.
Leah stared at the statement.
For several minutes, she sat alone in her apartment.
She knew it wasn't accurate.
She had identified the problem.
In writing.
Before the meeting.
She also knew how easily a junior employee could become the person blamed when senior professionals wanted a mistake to appear accidental.
For two days, she considered what to do.
She spoke with independent counsel about her obligations, privilege, confidentiality, and appropriate ways to address possible misconduct without improperly disclosing client information.
Then she cooperated with the authorized investigation through the proper channels.
The special committee obtained the relevant communications.
And Marissa Chen found the warning Leah had sent.
The email was unmistakable.