The weight of the past week pressed down on Joshua like a physical burden. Ryan’s face, frozen in the news report, flashed behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes.
It had been six days since the broadcast, six days of a self-imposed exile within the walls of his home. The fake cough he’d mustered for his manager had bought him precious time, but the guilt gnawed at him. He’d finally called Anthony, his manager, explaining the lingering “cold” and asking if he could work remotely for a while longer, at least until he felt more like himself. Truth be told, the “cold” was a convenient excuse to stay close to his kids, to shield them, and perhaps himself, from a world that suddenly felt menacing. He was afraid. Afraid of the outside, afraid of the questions, afraid of the unknown.
His world had shrunk to the confines of their home and the brief, necessary visits to Emily. Emily, his rock, his anchor. He’d driven to the hospital that morning, the familiar route feeling alien under the pall of his anxiety. He found her reading, a faint smile gracing her lips as he entered.
“Hey,” she said softly, placing the book on her lap. “You look… tired.”
He sat beside her, taking her hand. “I am. It’s been a rough week.”
“I know, honey. It’s been on the news, Ryan… it’s awful. But you haven’t been yourself. Is everything okay?” Her eyes, usually filled with warmth, held a deep concern.
He squeezed her hand. “Yeah, Em. Just… processing. It was a shock.” He avoided her gaze, the lie a bitter taste in his mouth.
Emily’s grip tightened slightly. “Joshua, I know you. This isn’t just shock. Talk to me.”
He wanted to. God, he wanted to tell her everything, to unburden himself of the secret that was eating him alive. But the fear held him back. Fear of what she might think, fear of the added worry, fear of the consequences. “I just… I need to be strong for you, for the kids. This whole thing… it’s shaken me up.”
“Being strong means being honest, Joshua. With yourself, and with me.”
He nodded slowly, his throat tight. “I know. I will. Soon.” He couldn’t bring himself to say more. He just needed to keep moving forward, one step at a time, for their sake. He couldn’t let his fear paralyze him.
The days crawled by, each one a testament to his growing anxiety. He cherished the extra time with Ben and Sarah, their innocent laughter a fragile melody against the backdrop of his turmoil. But the guilt of his deception lingered, a constant shadow.
Then, almost two weeks after Ryan’s death, the illusion of his safe harbor shattered. It was the early hours of the morning, the house still and quiet. He’d finally decided to try and catch up on some work, the pressure from Anthony mounting. He sat down at his computer, the familiar glow of the screen usually a comfort. But this morning, something was wrong. His login credentials for the company repository weren’t working. He tried again, and again, each attempt met with the same frustrating “Incorrect username or password” message.
Panic flickered in his chest. Had his account been compromised? He quickly navigated to his email inbox, and there it was. An invitation to a security meeting. In person. The subject line was cryptic: “Corporate Assets Restructuring — Following Recent Events.” The message itself was vague, alluding to necessary changes in light of Ryan’s death. A knot formed in his stomach. He understood. This was it.
He took a deep breath, a sense of grim resignation washing over him. He called the nanny, his voice calm despite the turmoil within. He grabbed his keys, a familiar weight in his pocket. Before leaving, he went into his children’s rooms, kissing their foreheads, whispering a warm goodbye.
The drive to Corpux was surprisingly peaceful. The early morning traffic was light, the city slowly waking up around him. He knew, with a chilling certainty, that sooner or later, the truth would come out. And perhaps, he thought, it would be better if more people knew. The thought of going to the police had crossed his mind countless times in the past two weeks. Now, facing this meeting, the decision felt clearer. He had to do the right thing, for Emily, for Ben, for Sarah.
He pulled into the familiar parking garage, the concrete walls feeling less imposing than they had in his nightmares. He swiped his employee card at the entrance, the gate lifting with a mechanical whir. Inside the sleek, modern lobby, he nodded to the receptionist, a polite, if strained, smile on his face. He took the elevator to the eleventh floor, the silence amplifying the frantic beating of his heart.
Meeting Room C11. He stood outside for a moment, gathering his resolve. Then, he knocked.
“Come in,” a voice called from inside.
He opened the door and stepped into a room that felt charged with an unsettling energy. His eyes scanned the faces around the large conference table. A wave of unease washed over him. There were so many unfamiliar faces, their sharp suits and serious expressions radiating an air of authority he hadn’t encountered before. Besides Anthony, his manager, who offered a tight, almost apologetic nod, and Brian, the CTO, whose usual jovial demeanor was replaced by a stern frown, the rest looked like a pack of high-powered lawyers, their eyes sharp and assessing. And then he saw him. Sitting quietly in the corner, observing everything, was a man who looked every bit the detective from a crime show: Kent Peterson.
“Joshua, please, have a seat,” Anthony said, gesturing to an empty chair.
Joshua nodded, his mind racing, but his ingrained politeness taking over. He sat down, the plush leather of the chair doing little to ease his growing discomfort. His naivety, he realized with a jolt, had blinded him to the gravity of the situation.
The meeting began with a slow, almost theatrical casualness. Anthony, his face etched with a nervous tension, started with the usual pleasantries. “So, Joshua, how are you feeling? Back to your old self, I hope? How are things going with the… uh… latest sprint?” The small talk felt absurd, a thin veil over the palpable tension in the room.
Then, Anthony’s gaze sharpened, the friendly facade crumbling away. He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “Joshua, the gentlemen in this room have some… concerns. Concerns regarding a particular fact.”
“Ok…” Joshua replied, his voice barely a whisper.
Anthony opened his mouth to continue, but he was abruptly cut off.
“Mr. Bennet,” a voice interjected, smooth and authoritative. Detective Kent Peterson. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes meeting Joshua’s directly. “I’m Detective Kent Peterson. We’re conducting an investigation into the death of Mr. Ryan Thompson. And Mr. Bennet, you are a person of interest. You were the last person seen talking to Mr. Thompson alone before his… murder. We’d like to know more about that conversation.”
Joshua’s heart hammered against his ribs. He felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. “I… I had nothing to do with Ryan’s death. We were just talking about work. That’s all.” His voice trembled slightly despite his efforts to remain calm.
Kent’s eyebrows rose slightly, a hint of skepticism in his eyes. “Work? An employee talking directly to the CEO about work? What could possibly have been that important, Mr. Bennet?”
Joshua’s mind raced. This was it. The moment of truth. He opened his mouth to spill everything, but a sudden wave of fear washed over him. “Wait,” he stammered, his voice cracking. “Am I… am I under arrest? What’s going on here? I didn’t kill him. I didn’t know that was going to happen. If I had known, I would have never…”
Kent held up a hand, his expression calm and reassuring. “Joshua, calm down. We are not arresting you. We just need to ask some questions. Take a breath.” He leaned forward, his voice softening. “My gut tells me you couldn’t have done this. I know about the accident, but I also know that someone with your intelligence wouldn’t jump the gun and do something like that. Why would you? You have a family. An engineering mind like yours would know that wouldn’t solve the problem… which was, as I understand it, your family’s insurance.”
Joshua’s breath hitched. How did he know about the insurance?
Kent continued, his voice persuasive. “Take your time, Joshua. Tell us what happened.”
Joshua felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed by a surge of determination. He had to tell them. He had to tell someone. He took a deep breath, his hands still trembling slightly. “It started a few weeks ago…” He began to recount the events leading up to his meeting with Ryan, the hours spent poring over the company’s repository, the shocking discovery of the algorithm, the transfer of wealth. He laid it all out, the words tumbling out of him in a torrent of pent-up anxiety and revelation. He even mentioned where he was at the time of Ryan’s death, providing a solid alibi.
A stunned silence filled the room as he finished his story. The lawyers exchanged worried glances, their initial accusatory stares replaced by expressions of surprise and concern.
“Mr. Bennet” Kent said, his voice thoughtful. “Have you shared this information with anyone else?”
Joshua shook his head. “No. Ryan… Ryan was supposed to take care of it. He said he would help my family.”
Kent nodded slowly, his gaze steady. He still had questions, Joshua could see it in his eyes, but there was a shift. A sense that he believed Joshua was telling the truth. “We’re going to need your equipment, Mr. Bennet. Your laptop, your cellphone… everything. We need to make sure you weren’t collaborating with anyone else.” He paused. “After that, you’ll be free to go.”
A murmur went around the table. Anthony and Brian exchanged glances. Then, Brian spoke up. “We can give Joshua a couple of weeks paid leave. The FBI will need time to analyze his equipment. Once that’s done, we can proceed with the investigation.” Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.
“I understand,” Joshua said, relief washing over him. “Anything. Anything to clear my name.”
Then, Brian, the CTO, leaned forward, his brow furrowed. “Joshua, what about the copy? Are you absolutely sure that’s the only one you have?”
“Yes,” Joshua replied, meeting Brian’s gaze. “It’s all yours. I just want this to be over.”
Finally, a lawyer slid a thick document across the table towards Joshua. “We’re going to need you to sign a non-disclosure agreement, Mr. Bennet.”
Joshua picked up the document, his eyes scanning the dense legal jargon. “Do I… do I need a lawyer?”
The lawyers exchanged knowing glances. “That could potentially delay the investigation for weeks, Mr. Bennet,” one of them said smoothly. “The faster we get through this, the faster we can also potentially help your family.”
Joshua hesitated, a sense of unease settling in his stomach. But the thought of Emily and the kids, the hope that the FBI could somehow protect them from the vigilante, pushed him forward. He reluctantly picked up the pen and signed.
It felt wrong, deeply wrong. But Joshua told himself it was for the best. It was the only way to move on, to protect his family. He just had to trust that this was the right thing to do.
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