Chapter 6: The License

The next morning I walked into Pinnacle Freight's headquarters for the first time as a visitor.

The lobby had my favorite plant in it, a fig tree I'd carried in myself six years ago.

The receptionist stood up when she saw me and then looked confused about why she had.

"Mrs. Landry," she said.

"Ms. Hale," I said, kindly. "I'm here for the board."

The boardroom was on the twelfth floor, glass on three sides.

Chairs sat around a long walnut table.

Nine of them were filled when I came in, and every head turned.

Walter Fenn sat at the head in his tweed jacket.

Bryce sat halfway down, between his mother and Kendra, with a lawyer I'd never met on his other side.

Marjorie did not look at me.

She looked at her nails.

"Ms. Hale, thank you for coming," Walter said. "You are here as the licensor of the Hale routing system, at the board's request."

"Not at mine," Bryce said. "I object. She's a former employee and a hostile party."

"I was never an employee," I said. "You said so in writing."

A few directors shifted.

Bryce's lawyer touched his sleeve.

I took the empty chair at the far end of the table, the one nobody had ever offered me.

I laid a single page in front of me.

"I'll be brief,"

I said.

"Ten years ago I wrote a routing engine.

"I registered it in 2016 through my own company, Hale Route Systems.

"Pinnacle has used it since then under an annual license."

"For a dollar," Bryce said. "She gave it to us."

"For one dollar, which I accepted because I was married to the CEO and believed in him."

I let that sit.

"On May thirty-first I gave notice not to renew. The license ended a week ago at midnight, as you've all seen."

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