Chapter 13 - Justice and Rejection
My choice was ugly. If I reported everything to the foundation board immediately, Daniel's firm could be removed from the housing project. Crews might lose work, tenants would miss winter dates, and Vanessa's workers would absorb the first blow. If I concealed the transfers, I would repeat the hierarchy that let Beth ration wages and Daniel borrow dignity from other people's labor. Reed proposed one path. The finance committee could approve an emergency reserve to repay every household worker. Daniel would disclose his actions in writing, surrender the project, and submit to an outside audit. The housing work could continue while accountability followed its proper timeline. Daniel called it public execution. Vanessa called it the minimum. I called the committee from the sunroom table where Daniel learned long division. He sat across from me, watching as I explained the unauthorized transfers and requested the vote. The committee approved the reserve. When I hung up, Daniel's face looked empty. “If you do this,” he said, “I may never work for you again.” “You shouldn't.” He nodded as though I had confirmed something he had believed since childhood. Then he pushed the second hot coffee toward me without drinking it. I had chosen justice. He'd heard rejection. Across the wide lawn, construction drawings waited in his own car. He had spent years proving he could build without my name, and I had used that name to remove him. Both things were true. Neither truth canceled the other.
