Hank knew it had gotten bad when he would pretend to go to the printer, just to make sure they weren’t having a meeting without him. It is said that criminals never get a good night sleep, and Hank hasn’t slept since January. He’s been working for the man long enough. Crunching numbers so detailed only his gifted mind could unravel such a labyrinth of data and computations. He’s seen the loophole for years. Lazy IT workers and tunnel vision accountants paved a comfy path to the other side. Any other man would do the same.

But Hank was no criminal. He was a Yale man. Like his father and his father before him.

Sweating through his thin button down shirt, the cleaning women have already come and gone. Sucking energy through the paper shredder, with each flick of the wrist, one more year in prison averted. As the sun comes up, Hank is still one step ahead of the consultants. But Hank knows that what today will bring, is still in the hands of the auditors.

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