Chapter 22 - Lydia Walked Into Crownwell Again
Twelve years after leaving through a side entrance, Lydia Prescott returned through Crownwell’s front lobby.
Victoria met her there.
“You didn’t have to come down.”
“Yes, I did.”
Employees recognized neither history nor significance.
To them, Lydia was a visitor badge.
That felt appropriate.
No parade.
No cameras.
Grace led them to a conference room.
Crownwell’s board had invited Lydia to consult on new audit controls.
Not as compensation.
Paid professional work.
She had hesitated for weeks.
“Why say yes?”
Victoria asked.
“To see if I could.”
“Could what?”
“Walk in.”
Lydia looked around.
“I spent years thinking this building had taken something from me.”
“Did it?”
“People did.”
Another distinction.
They reviewed whistleblower procedures.
Lydia was brutal.
“This is useless.”
Grace looked offended.
“I wrote that.”
“I know.”
“Why useless?”
“Because it reports to people employees are afraid of.”
Grace slowly nodded.
They redesigned it.
Independent hotline.
Outside counsel.
Direct board access.
Protection for employees who raise concerns in good faith.
Victoria asked:
“Would this have saved you?”
Lydia thought.
“Maybe.”
Not a fairy tale.
Policies did not eliminate cowardice or corruption.
They created fewer places to hide it.
During lunch, Lydia said:
“My sister asked about Logan.”
Victoria stiffened.
“What did she ask?”
“Whether his hair grew back.”
Victoria almost laughed.
“Yes.”
“Can I tell her?”
Victoria thought.
“That feels harmless.”
Then:
“But don’t send pictures.”
“Of course.”
Lydia looked at her.
“She is ashamed.”
“Good.”
Lydia frowned.
Victoria clarified.
“Not because I want her suffering.”
“I think shame is useful only if it becomes different behavior.”
Lydia smiled slightly.
“You’ve been spending too much time with therapists.”
“Logan would agree.”
Ms. Prescott had begun volunteering at an adult-literacy program where she did not work with minors.
She was considering training for another field.
No redemption montage.
No instant transformation.
She had lost a career she loved because of a choice she made.
Consequences could coexist with change.
Lydia asked:
“Do you think you’ll ever forgive her?”
Victoria shook her head.
“I don’t know if that’s my job.”
“What about Malcolm?”
“Same.”
“Yourself?”
That stopped her.
Victoria looked at the city through the glass.
“I’m working on accuracy.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t want to call myself innocent.”
“Good.”
“I also don’t want to call myself responsible for everything Malcolm did.”
“Also good.”
Victoria smiled.
“Annoyingly balanced.”
“Therapy.”
They laughed.
That afternoon Crownwell released its final historical review.
Thomas’s improper $200,000 transfer included.
Victoria’s signature on Lydia’s termination included.
Malcolm’s fraud included.
Bell’s role included.
No family mythology.
No edited hero.
The stock had recovered most of its earlier decline.
Not because truth magically increased value.
Because uncertainty decreased.
Investors preferred known problems over hidden ones.
Victoria found that almost poetic.
Then Grace entered.
“Northstar wants to talk again.”
Victoria looked up.
“About the sale?”
“Smaller transaction. No Redwood.”
“Value?”
“Three hundred eighty million.”
“Less.”
“Yes.”
“Cleaner?”
“Much.”
Victoria smiled.
“Then we evaluate it normally.”
No destiny.
No deal that must happen to justify suffering.
Just business.
At home Logan asked:
“Did Lydia go to your office?”
“Yes.”
“Was it weird?”
“Yes.”
“Did she yell?”
“No.”
“Disappointing.”
Victoria laughed.
Then he said:
“Ms. Prescott asked if my hair grew back?”
Victoria stared.
“How do you know?”
“Lydia texted me.”
“You and Lydia text?”
“She sent me a picture of her dog.”
Victoria felt old.
“What did you say?”
“That it’s almost normal.”
“Almost?”
Logan touched the left side.
Still slightly shorter.
“I think I might cut it all shorter.”
Victoria froze.
“Why?”
He shrugged.
“Maybe I want to.”
“Now?”
“Not yet.”
She nodded.
“Then wait.”
He smiled.
“You learned.”
“Yes.”
The scissors would come again eventually.
May you like
But next time—
they would belong to Logan’s decision.
