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Chapter 5 - The Quiet Apartment in EvanstonWhile the corporate world scrambled to avert a catastrophic collapse, Ethan Cole was sitting at a chipped wooden kitchen table in Evanston, helping his eight-year-old daughter build a papier-mâché volcano for her school science fair.

“Dad, are you sure this is enough baking soda?” Lily asked, squinting down at the cardboard mountain they had constructed out of cereal boxes and old newspapers.

“Science, Lily, requires precision,” Ethan said, carefully measuring white powder into a tiny plastic cup. “Too little, and the volcano does nothing. Too much, and it explodes uncontrollably before we’re ready.”

“Sort of like when Mr. Lawson yelled at you?” Lily asked innocently, tilting her head.

Ethan paused, smiling gently. “Something like that, sweetie. Sometimes people make a lot of noise because they think it makes them look powerful, but they haven't checked the foundation.”

“Did you like working there anyway?”

Ethan looked past her, through the small apartment window where the Chicago rain was starting to clear, revealing a pale afternoon sun breaking through the clouds.

“I liked the people,” Ethan said honestly. “I liked Nina, and Frank downstairs, and watching how real work gets done when nobody is trying to impress a board of directors.”

Suddenly, a sharp, urgent knock rattled the front door.

Lily jumped. “Are the police here because we used too much glue?”

“I doubt it,” Ethan said, standing up and wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “Stay here, kiddo.”

He walked down the narrow hallway and unlocked the door.

Standing on the threshold was not a police officer, but Malcolm Reed, breathless and sweating slightly in an expensive overcoat, flanked by Claire Holloway and two corporate security guards who looked deeply embarrassed to be standing in a residential hallway.

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“Ethan,” Malcolm breathed out, gripping the doorframe. “Thank God. We’ve been trying to ping your secure terminal for two hours.”

Ethan leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Malcolm. Good to see you. Did you bring the baking soda, or are you here to audit my kitchen?”

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