“What is that?” Diane asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“It is the Redmond soil analysis from 2016,” Evelyn said, her voice dropping to a low, flat register.

She finally picked up the phone, her manicured thumb zooming in on the image.

The glass of the conference room window rattled slightly as a gust of wind hit the building.

Outside, the Seattle sky was a heavy, bruised grey.

“Look at the date,” Evelyn said, turning the screen toward me.

“September twelfth,” I said.

“The public filing was dated September fourteenth,” Evelyn said. “And the results on the public record showed zero trace of chlorinated solvents.”

“And this one?” I asked.

“This one shows trichloroethylene at four times the legal limit,” Evelyn said.

She laid the phone back on the table.

The silence in the room felt thick and suffocating.

“If this document is real, the entire Redmond development was built on toxic ground,” Evelyn said.

“And Nathan signed it,” I said.

“Yes,” Evelyn said. “He signed the internal report acknowledging the contamination two days before the altered report was submitted to the state.”