Read Allergic to Love :: Chapter 18

The alcove’s walls seemed to hold onto the sound of the Compliance officers’ footsteps long after they’d gone. Lena stayed where she was, envelope still in her hand, pulse settled into a thin, deliberate rhythm.

Nine o’clock wasn’t far.

She stepped back into the main corridor, folding the screenshot neatly and sliding it into her notebook. When she reached her desk, Tessa was already there, half-sitting on the edge of her chair, eyes sharp.

“You disappeared,” Tessa said. “Again.”

“I was with Silas,” Lena replied.

“Of course you were.” Tessa lowered her voice. “What’s happening at nine? Everyone’s pretending not to know about a meeting no one asked for.”

Lena sat, aligning her notebook at the edge of the keyboard. “Compliance wants to review access logs.”

“Just you?” Tessa asked.

“Today,” Lena said. “Yes.”

Tessa’s jaw tightened. “So they’re making you the test case.”

“Something like that.”

Tessa opened her mouth, then shut it. Her gaze flicked briefly to Lena’s notebook, as if she could see the envelope through the cover. She didn’t ask.

Lena was grateful.

The floor’s noise was thinner than usual, every sound stripped of excess. People were working—or performing the appearance of work—with an intensity that had less to do with deadlines and more to do with proximity.

At 8:59, Lena’s phone vibrated.

**S. Trent:**

Stay seated. Let them come to you.

She typed: I remember.

Her fingers hovered, then added: Don’t stand alone in the glass.

There was a pause.

Then:

I won’t let you.

She locked the screen.

At 9:03, the Compliance officers reappeared.

There were two of them—one Lena recognized from the audit sweep the previous day, the other new. Their expressions were professional, their posture calm. But their presence drew a subtle ring of silence around her pod.

“Ms. Carrow,” the first officer said. “We’d like to speak with you about some access discrepancies.”

Not accusations.

Discrepancies.

Lena stood.

“Of course,” she said. “Where?”

“Interview Room 2C.”

She felt the words like a small impact.

2C wasn’t mirrored.

But it was glass.

“We’ll need you to come alone,” the second officer added.

Before Lena could respond, another voice cut across the aisle.

“She won’t.”

Silas.

He approached with measured steps, not hurrying, not delaying. His presence altered the space around them without raising his voice.

“Mr. Trent,” the first officer said. “This is a Compliance interview. Your presence isn’t required.”

“Which is fortunate,” Silas said, “because I’m not asking.”

The second officer narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t your jurisdiction.”

“Everything involving my analysts is my jurisdiction,” Silas replied evenly. “If you want to speak with her, you can do so with the glass open and the blinds raised. Or you can schedule a formal session with Counsel present.”

The first officer hesitated. “We’ve already booked the room.”

“Then we’ll use it,” Silas said. “Together.”

A muscle ticked in the second officer’s jaw. “You intend to sit in.”

“I intend to observe,” Silas said. “If your questions are appropriate, that won’t be a problem. If they’re not, you’ll be glad I was there.”

The exchange stretched like a wire.

Finally, the first officer stepped back. “Very well. But the interview is with Ms. Carrow.”

Silas inclined his head once. “Agreed.”

He glanced at Lena.

“Let’s go.”

The walk to 2C was short, but her body felt every step. The walls here were clearer glass, the kind that made rooms feel transparent without being truly exposed. Neutral light bled in from the hallway. The door, when it closed behind them, made only a soft click.

There was a recording device on the table.

Of course there was.

“Please sit,” the first officer said.

Lena did. Silas took a seat slightly behind and to her left—not beside her, not opposite the officers, but at an angle that allowed him to see all of them at once. He folded his hands loosely on the table.

The officer pressed a button on the recorder.

“Interview with Lena Carrow,” he said. “Analysis, Floor 32. Present: Compliance Officers Harris and Lin. Observing: Partner Silas Trent. Date—”

He listed it. The device beeped once.

“We’d like to clarify some irregularities in last night’s access logs,” Harris said. “Do you understand the purpose of this interview?”

“Yes,” Lena said.

“You understand that you’re not being formally accused of misconduct at this time.”

“At this time,” Silas repeated softly.

Harris ignored him.

“Tell us, Ms. Carrow,” Harris continued, “why you were present on Floor 40 after standard hours yesterday.”

Lena kept her voice steady. “I was assisting with document routing.”

“Which documents?” Lin asked.

“Archive transfers,” Lena said. “For historical fund structures.”

“Who authorized your presence on that floor?”

“Mr. Trent,” Lena replied.

“Did you access any files not explicitly assigned to you?” Harris asked.

Lena remembered R. Marrow’s voice.

When they tell you you’ve remembered something wrong, don’t argue.

“I opened a directory,” she said. “I reviewed a file name that matched a prior case I was familiar with. I shouldn’t have.”

“Did you open the file?” Lin asked.

“No,” Lena said.

Harris tapped his tablet. “The logs suggest otherwise.”

Lena exhaled slowly. “Then the logs are more precise than my memory.”

Harris paused.

The phrasing had been deliberate.

He couldn’t call it a lie without disproving her.

He couldn’t call it a confession without overreaching.

“Why were you interested in that file?” he asked.

“Because of the date,” Lena replied. “And because of a name I recognized.”

“Which name?”

“My father’s,” she said.

Silence slipped into the room.

“Your father was involved in a whistleblower case,” Harris said. “You’re aware of this.”

“Yes.”

“And you thought you might find something related to his actions in a restricted archive.”

“I thought I would understand why he was there at all,” Lena said. “I didn’t intend to alter anything.”

“Did you intend to share what you saw with anyone?” Lin asked.

“No,” Lena said. “Not before I understood it myself.”

Harris’s gaze sharpened. “Have you shared it since?”

Lena hesitated for half a second.

Silas spoke before she did.

“She has shared her concerns with me,” he said. “Which she is required to do under our internal oversight policies.”

Harris shifted his attention. “Mr. Trent, we’re asking her.”

“And I’m answering for the portion that involves my role,” Silas said. “If you’d like to question me separately, schedule it.”

Lin’s lips thinned. “Your involvement complicates this.”

“Good,” Silas said. “It should.”

Harris returned to Lena.

“Ms. Carrow,” he said, “are you aware that your access to that file triggered a reactivation of dormant audit flags?”

“Yes.”

“Were you trying to trigger them?”

“No.”

“What were you trying to do?”

“Understand why the file existed,” she said. “And why my father’s name was there.”

Harris glanced at his notes. “You’re aware that the internal review in 2015 concluded his claims were unsubstantiated.”

“Yes,” Lena said. “I’ve read the summary.”

“And yet you reopened it.”

“I opened a record,” she said. “You reopened the investigation.”

Harris’s eyes flickered.

Lin leaned back, watching her.

“Let’s talk about the model,” he said.

Lena’s shoulders stiffened. “Which model?”

“Project Delta Variants,” Lin said. “You reviewed it yesterday.”

“I was assigned to,” Lena said.

“You noticed irregularities,” Lin continued. “Didn’t you.”

It wasn’t framed as a question.

“Yes,” Lena said.

“Describe them.”

“They were consistent with the anomaly my father flagged,” she said. “Dampened volatility, rerouted outliers, preserved structure.”

“So you believe someone embedded manipulated behavior in a core model,” Lin said.

“I believe someone made intentional choices,” Lena replied.

“Who?” Harris asked.

“I don’t know,” she said.

Lin slid a printed page across the table.

It was the same screenshot Silas had shown her. Cleaner. Pulled from the source.

“Do you recognize this revision log?” Lin asked.

Lena looked down.

The names stared back at her.

C. Monroe.

J. Dalton.

She remembered Silas’s voice.

You don’t recognize the names. You’ve never seen the record.

She lifted her eyes. “No.”

“You’ve never seen this before,” Lin said.

“No,” she repeated.

“You don’t know who these people are.”

“No,” Lena said.

A muscle jumped once in her hand. She stilled it against her leg, out of sight.

Harris watched her closely.

“Ms. Carrow,” he said, “your colleague Tessa Monroe—any relation?”

Lena’s breath caught.

She kept her voice level. “I don’t know.”

“Did you ask?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Harris asked.

“Because this is my job,” Lena said. “Not hers.”

Harris’s gaze held hers for a long moment.

Lin tapped the page. “You’re sure you don’t know who J. Dalton is.”

“I’m sure,” Lena said.

Silas’s attention never left her profile.

Lin leaned forward. “We have testimony suggesting otherwise.”

Lena didn’t flinch. “From who?”

“We’re not at liberty to say.”

“Then I’m not at liberty to confirm their accuracy,” she said.

Harris’s mouth pressed into a line.

He shifted tactics.

“Ms. Carrow,” he said, “how long have you known Mr. Trent?”

“Since my final interview,” she replied.

“Would you describe your relationship as strictly professional?”

“Yes.”

“Has he ever encouraged you to access material outside your role?”

“No.”

“Has he ever asked you to keep information from Compliance?”

“No,” Lena said.

Harris glanced at Silas. “Mr. Trent, would you say the same?”

“Yes,” Silas replied.

Lin folded his hands. “We find it… notable that you discovered this anomaly so quickly after joining.”

“The anomaly existed before I was hired,” Lena said. “I didn’t create it.”

“But you activated it,” Lin said.

“By looking at it?” she asked.

“By connecting it,” he said.

The word sank into the room.

Harris clicked the pen in his hand once. “Do you think you’re repeating the choices your father made?”

Lena’s chest tightened.

Silas tensed behind her.

“No,” Lena said.

“Why not?” Harris asked.

“Because he believed being right would be enough,” she said. “I know better.”

The officers exchanged a brief look.

Harris ended the recording.

“For now,” he said, “that’s all. Your access will remain under review. We may have further questions.”

“Will I be allowed to return to my desk?” Lena asked.

“For the moment,” Lin said.

Silas stood.

“We’re done here,” he said quietly.

He opened the door and waited for her to exit first. The hallway looked the same, but walking through it felt different—like stepping back into a room after someone had rearranged all the furniture while she was gone.

They reached the turn toward the Analysis pod before Silas spoke.

“You did well,” he said.

Her laugh was hollow. “I lied.”

“You survived,” he corrected. “That’s not the same thing.”

“They know about Tessa,” Lena said.

“Yes.”

“What happens when she finds out?” she asked.

Silas’s jaw set. “Then we decide what to do with the truth.”

“And J,” Lena said quietly. “They’re already using his name like leverage.”

“They don’t understand it,” Silas said. “They only understand its utility.”

He stopped just before they stepped back into the open space of the floor.

“Lena,” he said, “you don’t have to carry all of this at once.”