At previous meetings, she had entered as an employee whose credentials were already recognized.
This time, she would enter as a woman whose qualifications had been questioned, whose reputation had been damaged, and whose honesty had been attacked by people with far greater financial resources.
She got out of bed and made coffee.
Then she reviewed her notes one final time.
Her attorney had helped organize the documents into a clear sequence.
First came the original technical annex.
Next came her written comments.
Then the revised version.
After that were the communications surrounding her removal from the project, the unauthorized certification, and the subsequent forensic findings.
She had rehearsed how to explain the Korean language differences without becoming lost in technical details.
She had also practiced answering questions designed to challenge her credibility.
What if the chairman accused her of misunderstanding commercial Korean?
She would explain the grammatical structure and the relevant contractual definitions.
What if he claimed she had approved the revised document?
She would identify the dates showing that the revision occurred after her access had been terminated.
What if he questioned her current occupation?
She would explain that serving food had no bearing on the authenticity of a document.
She reviewed those responses until she could deliver them calmly.
Then she closed the folder.
At seven-thirty, her father called.
“You ready?”
“Almost.”
“Did you eat?”
The waitress smiled.
“You sound like Mom.”
“That's because your mother trained me.”
She laughed softly.
He asked how she was feeling.
“Nervous.”
“Good.”
She frowned.
“Good?”
“Means you're taking it seriously.”
The waitress looked toward the window.
“What if I get something wrong?”
“Then correct it.”
“What if they try to confuse me?”
“Ask them to repeat the question.”
“What if nobody believes me?”
Her father was silent for a moment.
Then he said, “You can't control whether someone wants to believe the truth. You can control whether you tell it accurately.”
She let the words settle.
Her father continued.
“Remember when you were little and I'd let you help in the garage?”
“Yes.”
“You always wanted to know why something worked.”
She smiled.
“You made me explain everything.”
“Because guessing is easy. Understanding takes work.”
The waitress looked down at the organized pages on her table.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Go show them you did the work.”