“Your family must be devastated.”
“They’re angry,” I admitted. “They think I trapped her. They think I’m vengeful. They think I should have handled it privately.”
“Should you have?”
I considered the question.
Three years ago, when Victoria had tried to steal a fifty-thousand-dollar client from me, I had handled it privately. I had confronted her quietly. I had given her the chance to admit what she did. I had kept the family out of it at first because I did not want Thanksgiving dinners and birthday calls to become battlefields.
She denied everything.
Then she turned the family against me.
She said I was paranoid.
She said I couldn’t handle competition.
She said maybe I was confused about the client relationship because my business was so disorganized.
And my family believed her.
The client gave me a written statement describing what happened. They even forwarded the emails Victoria had sent. I had proof. But back then, I still believed proof should only be used when there was no other choice. I thought if I preserved the family, eventually the truth would matter.
It didn’t.
“Handling it privately doesn’t work when no one believes you and the person who did it faces no consequences,” I said.
“Fair point,” Jennifer replied.
“Plus,” I added, “this case will help other victims. Director Roberts said they’ll likely use it as a training example. Other investigators will learn from what I did. Other victims might understand why documentation matters.”
Jennifer nodded slowly.
“Victoria’s case becomes a lesson.”
“Exactly.”
My phone rang.
Mom.
I let it go to voicemail.
A minute later, the voicemail notification appeared.
I played it on speaker.
Mom’s voice filled the office, shaky and strained.
“Emily, your father and I have been talking. We think you’re right about some things. We didn’t believe you three years ago, and we should have. We pushed you to transfer the business without checking facts. We enabled Victoria’s behavior. That’s on us. But this… this is too much. Emily, your sister may go to prison because you set her up. Please call me. We need to fix this.”
The voicemail ended.
I deleted it.
Jennifer watched me carefully.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
And surprisingly, I was.
The guilt I had expected to feel, the regret, the doubt, none of it arrived. Victoria had chosen her path. I had simply made sure the path was documented clearly enough that she could not talk her way out of it.
“What happens now?” Jennifer asked.
“Tomorrow I give formal testimony to the SEC. Then there will probably be an arraignment next week. Victoria will plead not guilty, obviously. Her lawyer will try to negotiate. The SEC may offer something reduced in exchange for cooperation and restitution. If she’s smart, she’ll take it.”
“And if she’s not?”
“Then it goes to trial. The documentation gets presented in open court. The recordings of her undermining me. The pressure campaign. The transfer documents she drafted. The loan applications she filed using false revenue figures. The pattern of behavior.”
Jennifer exhaled.
“You’ve thought this through.”
