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I knew it. I’d seen it before.
ReimagINC: Redefining the Future of Investments
I closed my eyes, the white text on a cerulean background so familiar that I could pick it out anywhere. I reached for Flynn, threading our fingers together and breathing through the shock. I held onto him for dear life.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
I couldn’t answer. My throat had closed, my voice fleeing. My heart beat harder, the desire to leave, to hide, overwhelming.
He let go and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to his side. I sheltered against him, needing his strength.
“Do you need to leave?” His voice rumbled against my temple, its familiar cadence soothing.
I took in a slow breath, trying to ground myself. But my legs were like jelly. My hands shook. I clutched him, gripping his shirt tight. Needing him.
“Zee?”
I shook my head, my eyes burning. Why was this happening?
“ReimagINC was established in early 2007 as a financial investment firm. It was operated for over six months with no licences in place, its director staying under the radar from regulators.” He paced, reciting the information from memory.
His words kicked the stuffing out of me. Winded me. My chest was cleaved open.
Memories.
Pain.
Loss.
They hit me all at once, like a giant tsunami. Engulfed me. Lifted all the nice, neat pieces of my life and swept them away, leaving me in the rubble.
I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. I failed.
I tried to breathe, but my chest was too tight.
The professor pointed at the screen where an image of an egg cracking open was displayed. Fitting. With a few sentences, he’d just done that to my carefully constructed world. Shattered me. Hacked open my chest.
“It began with investments from associated entities—friends and family of the director. Then it expanded operations, seeking direct investment from high-net-worth individuals through word-of-mouth referrals.”
He flicked over to the next slide, and I pulled Flynn closer. He rubbed my back, his warm hand the only thing stopping me from crumbling. The wound where my heart once was stole my breath, the pain overwhelming. Why this? Why now? Why at all?
“The company had quite a few early wins, investing in solid growth companies. Investments flourished, and the company got the attention of the financial media.” The slide displayed headlines of various shapes and sizes showing just how much media attention it had gained.
“It was billed as ‘up and coming’ and a ‘mover and shaker’ in the financial world, its director an ‘investment queen.’ It was living up to its promise to reimagine investments and capital for everyday Australians. The director promised to redefine the future—hence the corporate slogan—and there was a resulting surge of investment.”
I knew those catch phrases; I’d heard them repeated so many times. Excited ramblings with big smiles. Passion. So much passion and determination. A fierce will to make it.
A flicker burned in me, that same determination sparking.
The why didn’t matter. Not really. That was the question of someone who wouldn’t act. Who was afraid. I was no wallflower. I wouldn’t be beaten down. Not before. Not now. Not ever.
I fanned those embers. Let the spark ignite. Felt the fire burn inside me, build me up into a raging inferno.
The professor would get his dues. I’d make sure of it.
Graphs filled the board at the front of the room, lighting up the screens next to us too. I focussed on them. Channelled my cool. Built my walls. Reinforced them with steel. I let the anger grow. Imagined the scorched earth as I let it all out. As I directed it toward the professor.
“But things were happening behind the scenes as well. The director was facing questions about whether the company was licenced. Within weeks, advertising materials reflected the addition of a licence number in compliance with legislation. Searches revealed that a new licence was granted, the director noting herself as the qualified financial advisor.” He spoke as if he didn’t believe the information he’d found. His tone warned us to take his words with a grain of salt.
