“My son taught me to photograph every document I sign,” she said.

“Because three years ago they docked my pay over a scheduling complaint that never happened.

I had my approved time-off slip.

They told me the paperwork had been misplaced — that it never existed.” She opened a cloud folder: clear photographs of signed memos, printed email threads, dated messages, guest names, employee testimony about ignored complaints.

There was a whole life’s education in that cracked-screen phone, and it shamed him more than anything else that night.

Bea had not started photographing her paperwork because she was suspicious by nature or litigious by temperament.