He had, in his specific way, made sure of me.
## What I Told My Friends
I had told two close friends what was happening, in real time, which meant they had followed the whole thing from the Tuesday night reading to the April accounting. One of them, my college roommate Priya, had been steadily furious on my behalf throughout. The other, a colleague named Sam, had been more measured and kept pointing out things I might be misreading.
Both responses had been useful, in different ways.
After the accounting was done, I called them both on the same day, not together — I told Priya first, then Sam.
Priya said: “So she basically admitted she knew.”
“She admitted she noticed something was off and didn’t look closer,” I said. “Which is — adjacent to what you’re saying.”
“That’s the same thing,” Priya said. “That’s knowing.”
“I think there’s a version of it where she genuinely convinced herself it was an old copy,” I said. “Not because that’s definitely true but because people can do that.”
“You’re being very charitable.”
“I’m trying to be accurate,” I said. “I don’t know what she knew. I know what she did. What she did was share an incomplete document and then try to get everyone to sign something before anyone looked closer.”
“Right,” Priya said. “Which is–“
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s what it is.”
Sam said: “How do you feel about it now?”
“Honestly? Tired,” I said. “And like something finished that needed to finish.”
“Are you going to stay in contact with her?”