Maya closed the notice and handed the phone back to her attorney. "Preserve everything."
He nodded. "Already doing it."
Maya looked at Marcus. "No one repairs a log. No one cleans a system. We copy, verify, and document." Then she looked at Adrien. "You wanted to protect the company." Adrien's face tightened. Maya stood. "Now we're going to find out what your protection cost us."
By Wednesday afternoon, the formal inquiry had already begun affecting WDI's operations: two government clients suspended new data transfers until the company could answer questions about Maya's access history; a third asked for an emergency compliance review. Outside counsel instructed WDI to preserve every relevant record while the technical team worked under tighter restrictions than they had ever used before.
Maya remained in the main conference room with her attorney, Marcus Reed, Dana Ellis, and the company's compliance director. Adrien had been removed from all privileged systems and placed on administrative leave while his actions were reviewed. The memory card remained in Maya's possession under documented custody.
Her attorney closed a laptop and looked at her. "We need to prepare for contract suspension."
"How many?"
"Potentially four federal or municipal accounts if the inquiry expands."
Dana asked, "Temporary?"
"Probably. But temporary can become permanent if the agencies decide WDI represents a security risk."
Maya looked through the glass wall toward the operations floor. Most employees were still at their desks: some were speaking quietly with supervisors; others were continuing regular assignments that had nothing to do with the investigation.
"How soon do we tell everyone?" Maya asked.
Dana answered first: "They already know something is wrong."
"I mean officially."
Her attorney said, "You can give them operational facts. Do not discuss the evidence or accuse Sloan, Adrien, or anyone else."
Maya nodded. "I won't."
Raymond had been sitting near the end of the table. He had not participated in the legal discussion. Maya turned to him. "You think I should say more?"
"I think adults know when people are hiding something from them."
"That doesn't mean I can disclose protected material."
"No. It means you don't tell them everything is fine when it isn't."
Maya looked back at the employees outside. "Agreed."
She scheduled an all-hands meeting for late afternoon. The staff gathered in WDI's largest briefing area. Some remained standing along the walls because there were not enough chairs for everyone. Maya stood at the front without slides or prepared notes.
"I'm going to give you what I can give you," she said. "There is an external investigation involving protected data handled through WDI. My own credentials appear in records connected to that investigation."
The room became quieter.
Maya continued, "We have evidence that some of those records are not reliable. We are preserving everything and cooperating through counsel. Until further notice, nobody deletes, edits, repairs, reorganizes, or cleans any system connected to this audit unless the action is formally approved and documented."
A senior analyst raised his hand. "Are we under investigation as a company?"
"Yes."
Another employee asked, "Are contracts being suspended?"
"Some clients have paused new work."
A woman near the second row asked, "Should we be worried about our jobs?"
Maya did not answer immediately. "There is risk. I'm not going to tell you there isn't." Several people looked at one another. Maya kept her voice steady. "What I can promise is that nobody in this company will be asked to change a record, hide a mistake, or protect WDI by making the evidence less accurate."
A senior analyst named Robert Gaines, who had worked in digital compliance for more than two decades, spoke from the third row: "I'd rather explain why we defended a real audit than explain why we buried one."
Maya looked at him. "Thank you, Robert."
He nodded. "That wasn't for you. That was for the room."
A few employees smiled, but nobody treated the moment lightly. Maya finished the meeting by asking everyone to return to normal work where possible and direct all outside questions to legal or communications.
When the room cleared, Raymond remained in the back. Maya walked toward him. "You liked what Robert said."
"He's old enough to understand that a paycheck and a reputation are both expensive to lose."
"He could lose both."
"So could you."
"That's different."
"Why?"
"Because I'm the one making the decision."
Raymond looked toward the employees leaving the room. "They're adults, Maya. Don't take away their right to decide what their integrity costs."
She crossed her arms. "I'm responsible for them."
"You're responsible for leading them. You're not responsible for making every difficult choice on their behalf." Maya was quiet. Raymond continued, "If people stay, let them stay because they understand the risk. If they leave, let them leave without making them feel disloyal."
Maya nodded slowly. "That sounds like something you learned the hard way."
Raymond looked at her. "I'm sixty-two. Most things I know came that way."
Later, Dana brought sandwiches from a nearby deli and left them in Maya's office: turkey on rye for Raymond, grilled chicken for Maya, two bags of chips, and bottled water. Maya stared at the sandwich, but did not open it.
Raymond sat across from her. "You should eat."
"Adrien used to say that."
Raymond did not respond immediately. "That doesn't make the advice wrong."
Maya finally unwrapped the sandwich. For several minutes, they ate without discussing the case.
Then Maya said, "I can survive losing my title." Raymond looked at her. "I can survive being embarrassed. I can survive people believing Sloan for a while. What I don't know is how I live with taking this company down with me."
"You're assuming the company belongs entirely to you."
"I founded it."
"That isn't what I said." She looked at him. Raymond continued, "People built their careers here. They made choices. They signed policies. They put their names on work they believed was honest. If the company survives by changing the truth, then you haven't protected what they built."
Maya set down the sandwich. "And if it doesn't survive?"
"Then you find out what remains."
Her phone rang. Outside counsel. Maya answered and put the call on speaker after confirming Raymond could remain in the room.
Her attorney said, "We received notice that another client is placing WDI's active clearance status under review."
Maya closed her eyes for a moment. "Effective when?"
"Immediately for new submissions. Current work can continue under restricted conditions."
"Reason?"
"Risk associated with the federal inquiry." Raymond watched her. The attorney continued, "There's also an informal communication coming through Sloan's office. He wants to speak with you directly."
"About what?"
"He says he may be able to help prevent the situation from escalating."
Maya looked at Raymond. He gave no reaction. She asked the attorney, "Did he give terms?"
"Not yet."
Maya already understood the purpose of the call: the effort to take the memory card had failed; the false credential trail had placed her under suspicion, but she was still refusing to surrender the evidence; now Sloan was applying pressure through the one thing Maya had spent years building—her company, her employees, her professional name.
Maya picked up the unopened bag of chips and placed it beside the sandwich. "Set up the call," she said. "Counsel stays on the line."
Her attorney agreed.