But safe.
Three Months Earlier
Barton Ledger Group occupied the thirty-second floor of a Midtown building with marble floors and glass walls. Marlene remembered the first day she walked in wearing a blazer she’d bought on clearance and heels that pinched her toes.
She’d been proud.
A real job. Benefits. Health insurance. A retirement plan. A desk with her name printed neatly on a silver plaque.
She worked in internal accounting. Quiet. Efficient. The kind of employee managers loved because she didn’t make waves.
Until she noticed the inconsistencies.
It started with vendor invoices that didn’t align. Small amounts at first—five thousand here, eight thousand there. Nothing that screamed fraud. But enough to tug at her professional instincts.
She double-checked.
Then triple-checked.
The numbers didn’t reconcile.
