Marshall stopped the recording. He looked directly at Gretchen. "You didn't disappoint."
The room was so silent that Gretchen's sharp intake of breath sounded like a scream. "I didn't know," she whispered. "I didn't know who you were."
Marshall nodded slowly. "I know you didn't. That's exactly the point. You wouldn't have done any of it if you'd known I was the owner. You wouldn't have done it if I'd been wearing a suit. You did it because I was black and I looked poor and you thought no one who mattered was watching." He let that sentence hang in the air until it was heavy enough to crush something. Then he spoke.
"Gretchen Harlo, terminated effective immediately. 18 years of accumulated benefits forfeited. You will be escorted from this building today."
Gretchen made a sound. Not a word, not a cry. Something between the two.
"Dale Briggs. Terminated. Effective immediately. Philip Alcott." Marshall turned to the former CEO. "You oversaw a system that buried 14 discrimination complaints. You signed off on every one. Resign today or I release them to the press tomorrow. Your choice."
Philip didn't answer. He just nodded once.
Then Marshall looked at the front row, at Santos Rivera, who was sitting three seats from Gretchen. His hands clasped between his knees, his eyes red. "Santos." The young man looked up. "You followed orders. I understand that. But I saw your face on that plane. You knew what was happening was wrong. You knew it, and you did it anyway." Marshall paused. "I'm keeping you on, but I need you to hear me. The next time someone tells you to drag an innocent man out of his seat, you say no. Even if it costs you your job, especially then."
Santos nodded. His chin was trembling.