Let My Death Mourn the Love I Lost

Chapter 2 The Erased Architect

The call came less than an hour later. Julian's usually polished digital assistant sounded panicked as he arranged an emergency conference with Alistair Davenport, our largest investor. Alistair came from old money and had no patience for careful corporate phrasing.

I logged in from the sterile hotel room with my suitcase still open behind me. Julian was already talking too fast, and the muscle beside his mouth kept jumping.

“Evelyn's contributions are invaluable, Alistair. This transition protects the company's long-term health.”

Alistair's rough voice cut through the speaker. “My five hundred million dollars are tied to Evelyn Vance. I backed the architect who built the damn building, Julian. I didn't back an intern doing the interior decorating. Is Evelyn out?”

Julian looked straight into his camera. The message was clear: *Fix this.*

I unmuted. “Athena's core architecture is secure. My protocols are running at ninety-nine-point-nine percent efficiency. Your investment is safe.”

I put three charts on the screen, the same three data sets Alistair expected from me. He studied them before settling back in his chair.

“Good. Who do I call when the next fire starts?”

“Chloe Harper.” I typed her direct line into the chat. “She's your primary contact now. She has the required access.”

Alistair read the number, then looked at me for several seconds. “Very well.” He left the call.

A private message from Julian appeared before Alistair's window had fully closed.

*You saved us. You see? We're still a team.*

I deleted it.

That afternoon, I returned to the office for my last personal items. Two facilities workers were carrying out my rare, deep purple Phalaenopsis. I had raised it from a seedling and watched its first root take hold. One man now had his hand clamped around the exposed roots.

“Careful.”

He shifted his grip. “Sorry, Ms. Vance. Miss Harper wants a softer image for the press photos. She's redecorating.”

My ergonomic chair, the one I had spent a month researching, sat on its side in the hallway. A huge tufted pink velvet chair had taken its place. The white walls were rose gold now, ready for the press photographs Chloe wanted. The changes left no trace of the room where I had worked.

Later that afternoon, an emergency board meeting appeared on my calendar. Chloe stood at the head of the table in a white power suit one size too large and clicked to a slide titled *A New Strategic Vision*.

Her hand shook once on the remote. Then she found her rhythm.

The slides were polished and stuffed with fashionable terms. The architecture underneath was familiar down to its branching errors. I had designed it over a year ago and named it Project Icarus. During final review, I found a flaw buried deep in the predictive algorithm. Initial diagnostics would report a healthy system; six months after launch, the damaged predictions would corrupt the entire data set. I had archived the framework and abandoned it.

Chloe presented that discarded framework as her own work.

When she finished, Julian began to clap. “Brilliant. This is exactly the bold thinking we need.”

The board joined him.

He turned to me. “Well, Evelyn? What do you think?”

Chloe held the remote against her stomach and waited.

“You have a real talent for this, Chloe,” I said. “A remarkable talent.”

She smiled and advanced to her closing slide. The proposed release schedule sat in small print at the bottom. I added six months to that date and committed the answer to memory.

Julian caught me beside the elevator after the meeting. “See? I told you she could handle it. The company is in good hands.” He loosened his tie. “I'm taking her out to celebrate tonight. I'll come by the apartment afterward, and we'll solve this little problem between us.”

“All right.”

My answer slowed him for half a step. “Good. That's good.”

The elevator doors closed between us. In my briefcase, beneath the last reports I would ever sign for Sterling Group, a thick manila envelope waited for him.