“So, if you made a mistake,” said Bruce, “it’s not all that surprising. It wasn’t your job to create documents like that. And it was a simple mistake, something easy to overlook, especially if you weren’t used to the sort of work, didn’t do it all that often.”
“Something that inevitably cost me my life,” I added.
Max and Bruce hung their heads. Mine was already there. It was a seemingly innocuous file. It was more than two year’s old, probably hadn’t seen the light of day since close to when it was created. I couldn’t for the life of me—bad choice of words—figure out why it sent a bullet through my back.
Max patted said back. “Remind me again, how many people work at your firm, Nord?”
“Thirty-six,” I replied.
His head went up and down. “And of those, how many actually would’ve needed
