Chapter 3 - The Interview They Never Wanted
Ethan got us into the back of a black sedan before I could decide whether staying with him was reckless or necessary.
Lily sat between us, her backpack hugged to her chest.
“Police are looking for Rachel,” Ethan said. “And Sloan.”
“I should call my mother.”
“Do it.”
My mother answered on the first ring. I told her I was safe, that I had missed the interview, and that I might be late coming home.
I did not tell her the CEO of Whitmore Capital had just recognized Dad’s name like a threat.
When we entered Whitmore Tower, people stood up before Ethan reached them.
No one asked why a six-year-old and a woman in scuffed interview heels were following the CEO through executive security.
In HR, Ethan demanded my application record.
The recruiter who had hung up on me was suddenly unable to meet my eyes.
“I followed policy,” she said.
Ethan pointed at the screen. “Show me the policy flag.”
Her hand hovered over the mouse.
“Now.”
She opened my candidate file.
At the top, in red, were three words.
DO NOT RECONSIDER.
I felt heat rise into my face. “That was entered today?”
The recruiter swallowed. “Three days ago.”
“Before my interview?”
She nodded.
Ethan asked who had entered it.
The authorization belonged to an HR administrator named Martin Vale.
“Who does he report to?” Ethan asked.
No one answered quickly enough.
“Graham Mercer,” the recruiter finally said.
Lily was drawing on a legal pad beside the window. Purple butterflies. One after another.
I stared at the screen. “Why would a vice chairman care about an entry-level analyst interview?”
Ethan opened another archive window.
“Because of your last name.”
He typed Daniel Bennett.
A file appeared.
My father looked back at me from a badge photo I had never seen. He was younger than I remembered him. Thirty-five, maybe. Blue shirt. Dark hair. A tired smile.
Across the top of the file was a red stamp.
TERMINATED — SUSPECTED EMBEZZLEMENT.
I stopped breathing for a second.
“No.”
Ethan did not touch the keyboard.
“My father wasn’t a thief.”
“I know.”
I turned toward him so fast the room tilted.
“You know?”
His eyes held mine.
“I was seventeen when he was fired.”
“That’s not the same as knowing.”
“I was there that night.”
The recruiter quietly backed toward the door.
I ignored her.
“Where?”
“Here. My father had brought me in after a school event. Daniel was outside the boardroom arguing with Graham.”
My mouth went dry.
“What did he say?”
“He said somebody had cloned his login. He said the transfers weren’t his.”
A memory hit me: Dad at our kitchen table, whispering into a phone. Mom closing the door so my little brother couldn’t hear.
Ethan opened an internal complaint.
The final line was highlighted.
IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, ASK RICHARD WHITMORE WHAT HE SIGNED.
I looked at Ethan.
“Richard Whitmore is your father.”
He nodded once.
“Then call him.”
Ethan’s phone rang before he could.
His assistant’s voice came through the speaker.
“Ethan, you need to get to the boardroom.”
“Why?”
“Graham just presented evidence that Clara Bennett’s father stole twelve million dollars.”
I stared at the old photo on the screen.
May you like
Then she added, “And he says Clara applied here to finish what Daniel started.”
