PART 4

Brittany looked at me again.

I said nothing.

She slowly sat down.

The HR director opened the folder.

And the first page contained something neither of us expected to see.

A document dated six years earlier.

A complaint.

A formal complaint filed by an employee at Brittany’s previous company.

And beneath the employee’s name was a statement that made Brittany’s hands begin to shake.

“I am reporting this because Brittany Carter has repeatedly falsified work records and presented other employees’ work as her own.”

Brittany looked at the page.

Then she looked at me.

And for the first time in our entire lives, she wasn’t looking at her older sister.

She was looking at the person who could no longer be ignored.

The HR director turned to the next page.

“There’s more.”

Brittany whispered, “Rachel, please.”

I finally spoke.

“Don’t ask me to protect you.”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I didn’t know.”

“I believe you didn’t know I was CEO.”

She swallowed.

“No. I mean… I didn’t know you were this.”

I looked at her quietly.

“This isn’t about what I became.”

I pointed toward the folder.

“It is about what you told Alderpoint you were.”

The room fell silent.

And then the HR director said something that changed everything.

“Brittany, we contacted one of your listed references this morning.”

She froze.

“The person you listed as your former supervisor.”

Brittany’s hands tightened around the edge of the table.

“He told us he never supervised you.”

Silence.

“He also told us something else.”

Brittany looked terrified.

“What?”

The HR director opened another document.

“He said you were dismissed from that company.”

Brittany’s eyes closed.

“And he said the reason was not performance.”

She opened them again.

“What did he say?”

The HR director looked down at the page.

Then back at Brittany.

“He said you were dismissed for falsifying client reports.”

Brittany stared at her.

Then slowly turned toward me.

I didn’t move.

Because suddenly, I understood something.

This wasn’t about a bedroom.

It wasn’t about my parents.

It wasn’t even about my sister discovering my title.

There was something much bigger hidden inside that folder.

Something my family had never known.

Something connected to Alderpoint.

And if the documents were accurate, Brittany hadn’t accidentally applied to my company.

She had deliberately targeted it.

But I still didn’t know why.

And that question was about to become much more dangerous than anything that had happened the night before.

Brittany stared at the folder as if it had suddenly become something alive.

“I can explain,” she whispered.

The HR director, Melissa Grant, remained completely still.

“You will have an opportunity to explain,” she said. “But first, we need you to understand that this meeting is being documented.”

Brittany looked at me again.

“Rachel…”

I didn’t answer.

Not because I wanted to punish her.

Because I knew that if I spoke too quickly, I would say something I couldn’t take back.

The chairman leaned forward.

“Ms. Carter, the purpose of this meeting is not to embarrass you. It is to establish whether the information in your application was accurate and whether there are additional issues that could affect your employment.”

Brittany nodded rapidly.

“I understand.”

“Good,” Melissa said. “Then let’s start with the simplest question.”

She slid the first document across the table.

“Did you work for Westbridge Marketing for eight months?”

Brittany stared at the paper.

“No.”

The answer came so quietly that everyone heard it.

Melissa nodded.

“How long?”

“Three weeks.”

“Why did your application say eight months?”

“I thought…”

She stopped.

“You thought what?”

“I thought the three weeks looked bad.”

The chairman’s expression didn’t change.

“So you changed it?”

Brittany lowered her head.

“Yes.”

I looked down at my hands.

I had spent fourteen years building my career by doing the opposite.

Whenever I made a mistake, I documented it.

Whenever I didn’t know something, I admitted it.

Whenever I failed, I learned from it.

Brittany had apparently learned another lesson.

Hide the failure.

Make yourself look better.

Hope nobody looks closely.

Melissa turned another page.

“Why did you list Thomas Avery as your supervisor?”

“He was my supervisor.”

“He says he wasn’t.”

“He was technically my team leader.”

“Did he supervise you?”

Brittany hesitated.

“No.”

Melissa made a note.

“And the other two references?”

Brittany’s face reddened.

“I knew them professionally.”

“Did they agree to serve as references?”

“No.”

The room went silent again.

Then Brittany whispered, “I thought they would.”

The chairman leaned back.

“You didn’t think they would be contacted?”

“I didn’t think anyone would check that carefully for an entry-level position.”

The words escaped before she could stop them.

Nobody moved.

I finally looked directly at her.

“That’s where you were wrong.”

She swallowed.

I wasn’t angry.

That seemed to make things worse for her.

Because anger would have given her something to fight.

Instead, I was calm.

And there was nothing she could manipulate.

Melissa closed the first folder.

“There is another issue.”

Brittany looked exhausted.

“What now?”

Melissa placed a second folder on the table.

“This one concerns Alderpoint.”

Brittany froze.

My eyes moved to the folder.

“What is that?” I asked.

Melissa looked at me.

“We discovered something during the background review.”

She opened the folder.

Inside was a list of names.

Several were familiar.

Very familiar.

I recognized three immediately.

They were former Alderpoint employees.

People who had left the company during the restructuring I had led eighteen months earlier.

My stomach tightened.

“Where did you get this?”

“From Brittany’s personal email.”

Brittany’s face went white.

“What?”

Melissa looked at her.

“You authorized access to the device you submitted for the employment verification process.”

“I didn’t know you’d find that.”

“What were you researching?”

Brittany didn’t answer.

Melissa turned the document toward me.

There were search terms.

Executive compensation.

Alderpoint restructuring.

Warehouse closures.

Senior leadership.

Board succession.

And one name appeared repeatedly.

Mine.

I looked at Brittany.

“When did you start researching me?”

She shook her head.

“I wasn’t researching you.”

“Then why is my name here?”

“I…”

She couldn’t answer.

The chairman looked toward Melissa.

“Can we have a moment?”

Melissa nodded.

Everyone except Brittany and me left the room.

The door closed.

For the first time, we were alone.

Brittany stared at me.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“What did you mean to happen?”

She looked down.

“I needed the job.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“My bills were piling up.”

“Still not an answer.”

She wiped her eyes.

“I wanted Mom and Dad to be proud of me.”

I said nothing.

She continued.

“Every time they talked about you, I felt like I was standing next to someone I could never compete with.”

I almost laughed.

“Compete with me?”

“You always had something.”

“No, Brittany. I had responsibilities.”

She looked at me.

“I know.”

“Do you?”

She nodded.

“You paid Dad’s medical bills.”

I stared at her.

“How did you know?”

“Mom told me.”

“When?”

“After you left.”

That sentence hurt more than I expected.

Not because she knew.

Because my mother had apparently discussed my financial help only after throwing me out.

Brittany continued.

“She said you had been paying more than they realized.”

I leaned back.

“And that changed nothing?”

“She said you were difficult.”

I closed my eyes.

There it was.

The family story.

I wasn’t generous.

I was controlling.

I wasn’t responsible.

I was interfering.

I wasn’t successful.

I was lucky.

No matter what I did, the explanation always changed so they never had to change their opinion of me.

Brittany whispered, “I wanted one thing that was mine.”

“So you lied on an application?”

“I panicked.”

“And researched Alderpoint’s leadership?”

She looked away.

“That wasn’t just about getting the job.”

I waited.

Finally she said it.

“I heard that the company was changing leadership.”

My heart sank.

“Who told you?”

“Mom.”

I stared at her.

“Mom knew?”

“Not everything.”

“What did she know?”

Brittany took a breath.

“She knew you were involved with senior management.”

I said nothing.

“She knew you had been working on something big.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. She said you talked in your sleep once.”

Despite everything, I almost smiled.

“Mom thinks I reveal corporate strategy while unconscious?”

Brittany gave a nervous laugh.

Then the smile disappeared.

“She asked me to find out what you were doing.”

The room became very quiet.

“What?”

Brittany looked at me.

“She wanted to know whether you were going to get promoted.”

“Why?”

“She said if you got a big promotion, you might stop helping the family.”

I felt something inside me break.

Not dramatically.

Not loudly.

Just enough to finally stop hoping.

My mother hadn’t been afraid I would fail.

She had been afraid I would succeed beyond their reach.

Brittany continued.

“She told me to look at your company emails if I ever got the chance.”

I stared at her.

“Did you?”

“No.”

I believed her.

“At least, not yet.”

That last word mattered.

I stood.

“Your employment will be handled by HR.”

“Rachel, please.”

“I won’t interfere.”

“But you’re my sister.”

I looked at her.

“Exactly.”

She started crying.

“I am sorry.”

I nodded.

“I believe you.”

Her face lifted.

“But forgiveness doesn’t mean trust.”

She looked down.

“I understand.”

I walked to the door.

Before leaving, I stopped.

“One more thing.”

She looked up.

“Don’t lie again.”

Then I left.

The meeting ended without Brittany being terminated immediately.

Instead, HR placed her employment on administrative hold pending a full review.

That was the correct process.

I made sure of it.

I didn’t want my sister fired because she was my sister.

I wanted the company to make its decision because of what she had actually done.

By 5:00 p.m., the board had reviewed the preliminary findings.

They agreed that I should have no involvement in the final decision.

I appreciated that.

For the first time, being CEO meant understanding when not to use authority.

That evening, I drove back to the hotel.

I opened my phone.

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART…