Emily saved the message.
She had no intention of discussing her employment over an unrecorded telephone call.
Tessa referred her to a local workplace advocate who explained the difference between a wrongful dismissal claim and the sensational story reporters wanted to tell.
Emily filed a wage complaint and documented the tips she had already earned.
She did not ask Gideon to call Victor and settle it privately.
A company capable of failing people through private decisions did not need another private decision to repair the damage.
Julian called after the television report aired.
“Dad thinks someone within the company leaked your location,” he said.
“And what do you think?”
“I think the photograph may have come from a contractor who follows our litigation team.”
“You sound unsure.”
“I am.”
Emily appreciated that he did not disguise uncertainty as reassurance.
He explained that the company had been receiving anonymous notes about the flood for years.
Some were demands for payment, some were genuine requests for help, and several contained details only an insider should have known.
Miriam had kept copies but refused to let the corporate communications team manage them.
“She never trusted our public relations department,” Julian said.
“Was she wrong?”
“No.”
Julian hesitated before continuing.
“One of the notes named my uncle Aaron as the man who tried to stop the second bus.”
Emily remembered Gideon’s brother’s torn coat.
“What happened to Aaron?”
“He died three months after the flood.”
“How?”
“A single-vehicle crash on a mountain road.”
“Do you think it was connected?”
“I don’t know.”
Emily wrote down the date.
She had grown wary of explanations that made every misfortune part of a conspiracy.
Aaron’s death could have been an ordinary tragedy.
It could also explain why Miriam kept searching after everyone else wanted to forget.
Either way, the answers belonged in records rather than guesses.
Chapter Fourteen: Aaron’s Last Route
The road where Aaron Mercer died curved through a wooded ridge south of Briar Hollow.
Emily visited it with Danny, who knew enough about vehicles to notice things that newspaper stories overlooked.
A cross stood near a turnout, its wooden arms worn smooth by weather.
Someone had tied a new blue ribbon around it.
A local man repairing fence posts nearby introduced himself as Calvin Shaw.
He remembered the crash because he had helped direct traffic that afternoon.
“It was foggy,” Calvin said.
“Everybody said he was driving too fast.”
Danny asked whether the truck left the road near the bend or farther downhill.
