171 — Presentation time…

I fix the skirt of my suit for the third time, brush away the dust that doesn’t even exist on my blazer, and walk in circles around the room that has been mine for the last few weeks, where our entire project was born and developed until we reached this point.
The idea that existed only in my head has now become a collective dream. All the sweat and effort of my team is on these pages, on this USB drive.
I look at the clock, noticing that the time for the project presentation is approaching. I’ve heard that the manager’s project is realistic and not very creative, but it is an effective method for restoring a company’s reputation. Sarah’s project is more innovative, with a different approach to the conventional. Of course, these are just comments; the details of each project have been kept secret. Even the presentation will be done individually.
My eyes are drawn to the clock again.
**12:29 p.m.**
I only have one long minute left to gather the courage within me. I spent the whole evening rehearsing while Julian sat on the sofa with his arms crossed and a sleepy face. He fought yawns and struggled to pay attention and ask the pertinent questions that other board members would probably ask. And, of course, I didn’t get a blink of sleep.
My cell phone beeps with the message I’ve been waiting for. Reading these words sends a chill down my spine, but I don’t let this fear paralyze me... I just fix my hair one last time, pull up my skirt, take a deep breath... and leave.
The whole way to Conference Room 1 makes me super conscious. The people around me wish me good luck with smiles, words of encouragement, and some thumbs up. But my heart is still beating in my throat, in my ear, crashing against my chest.
The click of my heels sounds loud amidst the common office noises that are part of my routine.
The opening and closing of the elevator doors.
The long corridor on the top floor...
*Everything seems too loud around me.*
When I pass the Vice-President’s door office, I see that it still carries the name JULIAN ADAMS, just as it did seven years ago.
I remember when I joined this company, and sometime later, Julian had his position demoted. At the time, there were rumors that he fought with Dad and that he didn’t take his job seriously, but I knew better. People just accepted it with time and lost interest in why Julian gave up such a high position to deal directly with the projects.
Today, I understand that Julian was not only looking out for this company — his older brother’s dream — but also looking out *for me.*
I always had people looking out for me, didn’t I? Even Sarah ended up putting me under her sight. And I truly appreciate that. I don’t see it as a weakness, a flaw, or a defect anymore... I can say that it’s a gift to have people who can help you and reach out when you need it.
But now, I want to prove that their efforts for me have paid off.
I like to show that I’ve become someone strong and to bring pride to those who believe in me... It’s my way of saying thank you for everything, for all this time.
That’s why I take a deep breath and enter the conference room with confidence, ignoring the intense chill in my stomach when I feel the board members’ gazes on me.
I look at some of those strangely familiar faces that I’ve seen a few times in my father’s presence: older men, young men, elegant women who smile at me reassuringly... Then I meet the green eyes that are my favorite thing in the world — and confidence returns to my body.
I hand the USB drive to an employee and position myself next to the big screen, taking one last deep breath.
“Good morning. First of all, I’d like to thank you for your time and for the opportunity. Even before Dynamic Co. was officially part of J’O Tech, we were part of its history. It was a client that brought not only profits but also benefits, which was the ultimate goal of this company: *to make a difference.* As a technology company that turns dreams into reality...” I look at Julian and hold his shining eyes. “We must value security as one of the pillars for sustaining what we believe in... After all, what could we do without faith?”
The board members are silent, looking at each other with a certain understanding, but they don’t seem impressed. And well, I know that I just look like a twenty-three-year-old girl full of dreams, unrealistic ideas, and zero sense of the world. But I’m not some rich girl who was born with a golden spoon, isolated from the world, protected by the walls that money and wealth can offer. I’ve bled, cried, and felt how cruel life can be, just like any normal person.
“Our project for Dynamic Co. has made the company one of the biggest in the United States. Our software was innovative and brought convenience to people’s lives. The artificial intelligence embedded in the devices we sell to make this all possible has earned us billions of dollars over the years, and all because people believed in it — because what everyone wants most is *to feel safe.”*
I pause, then press the NEXT button on the remote, displaying news about the scandal. I notice that everyone tenses up immediately, but I stand my ground, staring at the screen with a bitter mouth.
**J’O TECHNOLOGIES BUYS DYNAMIC CO?**
“We took responsibility, even if it wasn’t our fault. Our software was supposed to be invincible. Error-free. Impenetrable. I imagine all this came as a shock to the development department that sold the idea of perfect software.” I flick to the next slide, displaying another news item. **LEAK OF SENSITIVE DATA? HOW DOES THE SCHANDAL OF DYNAMIC CO. AFFECT OUR LIVES?**
*“How does it affect our lives?”* I repeat like I’m reading, but I’m just mumbling these words to myself. Like a normal, exposed person... “Our software was flawless... but it couldn’t go up against a human being’s worst enemy — itself.”
I turn again to the board members, who now look surprised and even a little nervous.
“They sold the data they were supposed to protect with our software. That should have been enough reason to turn our backs on the problem, but the President took the opposite decision and took responsibility. You want to give Dynamic CO. another chance, but I ask you... *Are the people willing to give the company another chance?”*
They seem even more upset... in fact, I can see some angry faces in the crowd. I feel a chill in my stomach because provoking them isn’t the smartest strategy at the moment. I know that. I know that poking at the wound and exposing what everyone knows and is too scared to say is putting a target on my back and getting all the flak, but it’s necessary.
I meet Julian’s eyes again, and they seem to tell me to hang in there. I also wish my father were here, but it’s better to avoid a conflict of interest.
“Our privacy and security is something that directly affects our dignity and quality of life. It’s scary to think of the power that wrong people can have over our lives... and the worst thing is that we have no control over any of it. We can’t prevent the exposure or control the abuse of this info. We can’t stop the people who sold it or predict what others will do with it. The fear that eventually something like this could be used against you is... *paralyzing.”*
I pause, letting my words hang in the air. My mouth is dry, but I’m surprisingly calm... after all, what I’m saying is true. I’ve been through it all. I’ve felt it in my own shoes. Laura, my leaked photos, rumors that always made me look wrong and bad. Distortions and lies. The feeling of being watched. I went through it all for myself.
That’s why I can imagine how those millions of people felt when they were sold out by someone they trusted. They bought a service, they bought safety, and they were hit in the back.
The loss of control.
*Powerlessness.*
Doubts... It can make you even wonder if you’ve done something wrong, even though you know you haven’t. You can get so scared that you start to doubt yourself.
“People won’t give a second chance to the company that sold them out... that put a price on their trust, on their peace of mind. And there’s no way just to let it go and forget what’s been done when the biggest losers are on the other side.”
“What do you suggest?” An old, balding man asks with an angry expression. It’s clear he’s impatient. Hearing me talk about how they possibly made a mistake in buying the company, even at a bargain, must get on his nerves. But we need this... this raw vision, this desperation to make amends. It would be pointless if the urgency were felt only by the others.
“Of course, we didn’t sell the data, but we took responsibility when we bought Dynamic Co... and even long before that, when our software and our products arrived in people’s homes. Thousands of families protected, entrusting their homes, their children, and loved ones... Can you imagine how these people feel? They probably lose sleep wondering if some maniac has bought their alarm password or found out their credit card password.” I say firmly, looking at all the board members, finally stopping at *Director Bald*, who asked me the question. “We need to give them back what was taken... That’s the only way to get a second chance.”
My words seemed to truly shock them. Some look at each other, confused, gasping, while others seem restless and deep in thought.
Julian looks at me without any apparent reaction, but I can already see through his working face — that he’s telling me to keep going.
“Haha, and how do you intend to do that? Perhaps you’re suggesting that we build a time machine?” Director Bald laughs, brushing off. He looks around for support, but no one around seems to be laughing at such a foolish joke. He fakes a cough, disguising his laughter. “Look, young lady... Certainly, our technology company is capable of many things, but don’t you think you’re being too naive?”
“We can’t change the past,” I say firmly, looking at Julian again, remembering that I said those same words to him on another occasion. “But we can make up for our mistake and make the future different.”
“And surely you’ve come up with a project for that?” A second voice intervenes, and it’s only then that I realize it’s indeed familiar... Mitch — my father’s old friends from college... one of the three friends who were there that disastrous night when my father found out about Julian and me.
Well, it’s certainly a surprise to see him on the board... I guess he decided to join in this madness with my dad after all.
“Yes, I did,” I say firmly, not letting it get to me.
I press the next button on the remote, and it finally displays the name of my project, **ENKRATEIA.**
“My project will give back to the people what was taken from them... *The power and control over themselves.”*