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The sterile weight of the NDA lingered long after Joshua had signed it. Days bled into a week, each sunrise finding the knot of unease tighter in his stomach.

It felt wrong, somehow hollow, this silence bought by legalese. But worry was a luxury he couldn't afford. Every waking thought, every spare ounce of energy, was channeled toward Emily. Her surgery loomed, a beacon of hope in the suffocating fog that had become their lives.

While Joshua was officially Out Of Office, marked absent to care for his wife, his apartment and belongings became the quiet focus of federal attention. Agents, methodical and detached, sifted through his life - digital and physical. Joshua endured it, a necessary violation. If letting them tear through his privacy could definitively sever any imagined link between him and Ryan Thompson's death, so be it. Anything to lift the shadow of suspicion.

He spent those weeks orbiting Emily's hospital bed and navigating the bewildered questions of their children. He played board games with forced cheerfulness, read bedtime stories with a voice thick with unspoken anxiety, and held Emily's hand, whispering reassurances he wasn't sure he believed himself. Slowly, tentatively, a fragile sense of normalcy began to return, like green shoots pushing through scorched earth.

---

One evening, chopping vegetables for the kids' dinner, Joshua glanced at the newsfeed scrolling on his phone propped against the backsplash. The usual stream of political squabbles and market fluctuations flickered past until a headline snagged his attention: VIGILANTE BEHIND THOMPSON ASSASSINATION APPREHENDED.

His heart hammered against his ribs. He swiped, enlarging the article. Federal agents had tracked the suspect to Altoona, Pennsylvania. A break came when a fast-food worker at a McBurgers recognized the man from leaked security footage, grainy images that had haunted the news cycle for weeks. The suspect: Mario Mangione, white, mid-twenties. The FBI theorized he might have had help from an underground network to travel so far, though his ultimate destination remained unclear.

The details were chilling. At the time of arrest, Mangione possessed a US passport, several high-quality fake IDs, a firearm with a silencer consistent with the weapon used on Thompson, and most damningly, a handwritten document. Joshua scanned the partial transcript provided in the article:

> *"To the Feds, I'll keep this short, because I do respect what you do for our country. To save you a lengthy investigation, I state plainly that I wasn't working with anyone."
"This was fairly trivial: some elementary social engineering, basic CAD, a lot of patience."
"The spiral notebook, if present, has some straggling notes and To Do lists that illuminate the gist of it. My tech is pretty locked down because I work in engineering so probably not much info there."
"I do apologize for any strife of traumas but it had to be done."
"Frankly, these parasites simply had it coming. A reminder: the US has the #1 most expensive healthcare system in the world, yet we rank roughly #42 in life expectancy."
"Corpux is the f+ckin largest company in the US by market cap, behind only Bapple, Loogle, Allmart. It has grown and grown, but has our life expectancy?
"No the reality is, these f+ckers have simply gotten too powerful, and they continue to abuse our country for immense profit because the American public has allowed them to get away with it."
"It is not an issue of awareness at this point, but clearly power games at play. Evidently I am the first to face it with such brutal honesty."*

---

A profound, almost dizzying wave of relief washed over Joshua. It wasn't me. They know it wasn't me. This confession, this manifesto, was his exoneration.

Just as the tension began to ebb from his shoulders, his phone rang. Caller ID: DETECTIVE KENT PETERSON.

"Joshua," Kent's voice was warm, devoid of the professional distance from their previous encounters. "Saw the news?"

"Just reading it now, Detective," Joshua managed, his voice still shaky.

"Figured. Look, any chance you could swing by tomorrow morning? Just briefly. Got a couple of loose ends to tie up on my end regarding… well, everything."

Joshua glanced towards the calendar hanging by the fridge. Emily's surgery. "Tomorrow's the big day for Emily, her surgery. But yeah, I can make time. Needs to be quick though."

"Understood. See you then."

---

The next morning felt brighter. Joshua met Kent at a small diner near the precinct. The detective greeted him with a firm handshake and a knowing smile.

"Joshua. I knew my gut wasn't wrong about you," Kent said, sliding into the booth opposite him. "Just needed the facts to catch up." They chatted briefly, Ken confirming the details of Mangione's arrest and confession largely matched the public reports. The suspicion was officially lifted.

As they stood to leave, Kent clapped him on the shoulder. "Take care of your wife. And Joshua?" He grinned. "I hope to never hear from you again."

Joshua laughed, a genuine, unburdened sound. "Likewise, Detective. Likewise." Relief felt like sunshine after a long winter.

---

He drove straight to the hospital, his steps light. He found Emily awake, nervously fiddling with the blanket.

"Hey," he said, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Got some good news." He told her about Mangione's arrest, about his meeting with Kent, about the cloud finally lifting. A shared smile passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the storm they had weathered. Things were looking up.

The surgery was scheduled for 4 pm. Joshua sat by Emily's bedside, holding her hand, watching the clock. 4:15 pm. 4:30 pm. 4:45 pm. Impatience gnawed at him. He flagged down a passing nurse.

"Excuse me, my wife, Emily Bennet, was scheduled for surgery at 4. Is there a delay?"

The nurse, harried but kind, tapped on a nearby terminal. "Let me check, Mrs.… Bennet… Ah." Her brow furrowed. "Yes, there seems to be an issue flagged with the insurance authorization. It's caused a delay."

"An issue? What issue?" Joshua's voice sharpened. "We have Corpux coverage. There shouldn't be any issue."

"Let me double-check the system," the nurse offered, typing again. She entered Joshua's details, likely his SSN provided earlier. Her eyes widened slightly. "Sir… this is strange. It's saying the policy isn't valid. That the Corpux group policy… it says it's inactive"

"Non-existent?" Joshua felt the blood drain from his face. "That's impossible! Try again! There must be a mistake!"

The nurse typed, clicked, and shook her head slowly. "I'm sorry, sir. The system rejects it. It says the policy is inactive, effective immediately."

His hands trembling, Joshua fumbled for his phone, pulling up the Corpux benefits app. He tried to log in. *Incorrect Username or Password*. He tried again. Same result. He tried resetting the password, entering his employee details. *User Not Found*.

Cold dread, sharp and familiar, pierced through the shock. That gut feeling, honed by weeks of stress, screamed an explanation. The NDA. The timing. The silence from HR.

---

"I have to go," he stammered, turning to Emily, forcing a calmness he didn't feel. "Just a stupid mix-up with the insurance, Em. Some bureaucratic nonsense. I'm going straight to the office to sort it out right now. I'll be back before you know it." He kissed her quickly, ignoring the confusion in her eyes, and practically ran from the room.

The drive to the Corpux tower was a blur of frantic thoughts. He needed answers. Now.

He strode towards the imposing glass doors of the lobby, his old keycard already in hand, but a familiar figure in a security uniform stepped into his path, holding up a hand. It was Gerard, a guard he'd exchanged pleasantries with almost daily for years.

"Joshua? Hey man, sorry."

"Gerard? What's going on?" Joshua asked, bewildered. "Let me through, I need to get to HR. There's a major screw-up with my insurance."

Gerard shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. "Sorry, man. Can't do that. My instructions are clear. You're not allowed access."

"Not allowed access? What are you talking about? I work here! You know me!" Panic clawed at his throat.

"I know, Josh. I'm really sorry," Gerard mumbled, looking genuinely pained but resolute. "My hands are tied. They told me specifically - no entry for Joshua Bennet"

Joshua pleaded, argued, his voice rising, but Gerard held firm. Defeated, Joshua backed away, the reflective glass doors mirroring his stunned expression. He crossed the street, sinking onto a bench near a coffee stand, his mind racing. What was happening? He needed to talk to someone, anyone inside.

---

He pulled out his phone again, scrolling through his work emails, searching for a familiar name, a friendly contact in HR or his department. And then he saw it. An email that had arrived just an hour ago, buried beneath unread notifications.

> ***Subject: Regarding Your Employment at Corpux**
Dear Mr. Bennet,
This letter confirms the immediate termination of your employment with Corpux, effective today. This decision follows an internal review related to recent security events and subsequent allegations of corporate espionage.
As per company policy regarding terminations under these circumstances, you will not be eligible for a severance package. Your final paycheck, including any accrued vacation time, will be processed according to state law.
We remind you of your obligations under the Non-Disclosure Agreement signed on previously. Any disclosure of proprietary information, including but not limited to details regarding Corpux algorithms or internal processes, will result in swift legal action seeking damages.
Your access to company systems and property has been revoked.
Sincerely, Corpux Human Resources*

The phone slipped from his numb fingers, clattering onto the pavement. *Corporate espionage*. The words echoed in the sudden, terrifying silence. It was never about helping him. It was risk management. They waited until the FBI had their suspect, until the public attention shifted, and then they cut him loose. Cleanly. Brutally. They used the NDA not just to silence him about Thompson, but to gag him permanently about everything.

He was adrift. Fired. Accused. Threatened. His wife was waiting for a surgery that might never happen because the company he'd dedicated years to had just erased his existence, dumping him like inconvenient trash the moment he ceased to be useful and became a potential liability.

Joshua stared blankly at the imposing Corpux tower across the street. He was in the abyss again. Alone. And this time, the fall felt bottomless.

---

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