Page 116 of Keller

At seven in the morning, the city is just waking up, but inside this room, the day has already turned sharp.

Ridge stands at the head of the table, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his forearms, showing off his full sleeve of tattoos. A legal padsits untouched in front of his chair. He hasn't sat down since we arrived.

Wells has his laptop mirrored to the wall monitor, green text scrolling against a dark background. His hair is slicked back, and the shadows under his eyes tell me he hasn't slept.

I still smell Quinn's shampoo on my skin. I had the driver take me home to change and get my truck, deliberately not showering so I could still smell her.

The secure line crackles, and outside counsel's voice comes through. It's the kind of tone lawyers use when they're about to deliver news that costs money. He sounds nothing like Micky from The Lincoln Lawyer.

"The preliminary federal inquiry into executive compliance conduct during the month of October has been formally approved at the supervisory level. They are trying for subpoena power for the entire fourth quarter, but so far, it looks like they are zeroing in on that month."

The words land in the room and settle there. No one moves.

"It remains internal," counsel continues. "Not public yet, no task force in place. This is very, very early in the process, and as far as they know, you guys are not yet aware it's in the works."

Ridge's jaw tightens, but he says nothing. His stillness is its own kind of pressure.

"A small team is assembling to conduct what they're calling a threshold review. The scope covers override authority, routing deviations, and internal compliance suppression tied to that specific window."

Wells pulls a document onto the monitor. It is dense and clinical, the kind of language designed to sound harmless while meaning something very specific.

“I pulled the scope language an hour ago,” Wells says evenly. “It’s narrow. Executive override authority and post-incident compliance review activity. That’s the window.”

I lean back in my chair and read the phrasing again, parsing what it includes and, more importantly, what it doesn’t.

“October,” I say. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Wells confirms.

The room goes quiet.

Ridge’s jaw tightens slightly. “Anything in that lane we haven’t already contained?”

Wells doesn’t answer immediately. “Nothing tied to corporate accounting or routing authority that hasn’t been reconciled.”

Vin exhales through his nose. “We don’t want federal eyes anywhere near October. Even if it’s clean on paper.”

That lands. Because clean on paper is not the same as clean.

No one elaborates. No one needs to.

I look at Cain, and he's rubbing his bald head like a security blanket.

Ridge finally speaks. "What triggered it?"

The question hangs in the air.

"We don't fully know," Wells says. "The filing doesn't specify an originating complaint or referral source. It reads as if it came from an internal review, not an external tip."

Counsel's voice cuts back in. "That's consistent with what we're seeing on our end. No indication of whistleblower involvement. No grand jury activity. This appears to be a routine compliance audit that identified irregularities and was escalated."

Routine. The word feels wrong. Nothing about October was routine.

Ridge turns to face the window, his back to us. The morning light catches the tension in his shoulders.

"Someone connected October," he says quietly. "Someone looked at those three days and started asking questions."

The silence stretches, and Wells types something. New data populates on the screen, more of the same.