Take Care of Them While I’m Gone
“Eight days ago.”
Terminal. Boston. He had killed me off to an entire building, and he had done it before he ever came home to announce a promotion that did not exist.
I opened my mouth to ask how many people had been told, and what they had been told, and whether anyone had — and then I heard myself think, quite clearly, that isn’t going to help you, and I closed my mouth and asked about the accounts instead.
“Susan, I’m perfectly healthy,” I whispered, letting real tears of rage spill over. “He’s abandoned me. And this morning fifteen thousand dollars went to a jeweler on Peachtree — our joint account.
If he’d lie to this company about a fake deployment, I can’t imagine what else he’s touched here.”
Susan’s face went cold. She reached for her phone. “Fabricating leave to defraud the company is serious. I’m ordering a full forensic audit of every corporate account Everett has ever had access to — starting now.”