"How long has it lasted?"
"Approximately four months."
"And how many applications have been affected?"
Richard glanced toward Rebecca.
"I don't have the exact figure."
Rebecca opened a document.
"The preliminary report identifies several hundred applications affected by the revised review process, although not all were rejected."
Eleanor looked at Richard.
"Why wasn't that information included in the quarterly community impact report?"
He hesitated.
"We were still assessing the data."
Rebecca looked up.
"The report was prepared, Mr. Caldwell. It was removed from the final executive packet."
The room became quiet.
Thomas leaned forward.
"Removed by whom?"
Rebecca checked her notes.
"The documentation indicates that the regional executive office requested its exclusion."
Richard sat upright.
"That information lacked context."
Rebecca answered evenly.
"The review team had already provided explanatory context."
Richard looked toward Thomas.
"With respect, these decisions are more complicated than they appear."
Thomas's expression remained controlled.
"Then explain them."
For the next hour, Richard attempted to do exactly that.
He described tightening credit markets, increasing compliance requirements, rising operating costs, and the need to maintain financial stability.
Some of his points were legitimate.
Banks could not lend irresponsibly.
Risk management was essential.
Profitability mattered because institutions that failed financially could not protect depositors or serve communities.
Eleanor understood all of that.
She had spent decades working with people who knew it intimately.
What troubled her was not that difficult decisions had been made.
It was how those decisions had been implemented, concealed, and communicated.
Rebecca presented records indicating that employees had been instructed to reduce appointment time for lower-revenue accounts.
Certain customers had been redirected toward automated services even when they needed assistance understanding complicated documents.
Managers had received incentives tied to high-value account acquisition.
Complaints from some branches had been categorized as service preferences rather than potential policy concerns.
Richard disputed the interpretation of several documents.
Rebecca acknowledged that the investigation was preliminary and that the facts would need to be verified.
But the material was serious enough to demand an independent review.
Eleanor listened with increasing sadness.
At last, she looked toward Hannah.
"Miss Brooks, may I ask you something?"
Hannah nodded.
"Yes, ma'am."
"When customers have questions that take longer than the allotted appointment time, what are employees told to do?"
Hannah hesitated.
Richard turned toward her.
Eleanor noticed.
"Richard, please look at me."
He turned reluctantly.
"Miss Brooks should be able to answer without feeling watched."
Hannah took a breath.
"We're encouraged to keep interactions short and redirect customers to online services when possible."
"Even elderly customers who have trouble using computers?"
"Sometimes."
"Are you allowed to spend additional time helping them?"
"Technically, yes."
Eleanor waited.
Hannah lowered her voice.
"But it can affect our performance metrics."
Thomas closed his eyes briefly.
Hannah continued.
"We have targets for appointment volume and referrals. If someone needs forty minutes to understand a form, it can put us behind."
"Have employees been disciplined for that?"
"I know people who have been warned about their numbers."
Eleanor looked down at her hands.
She remembered Samuel spending nearly an entire afternoon helping an elderly farmer understand a loan agreement.
The farmer had been embarrassed because he could barely read.
Samuel had sat beside him and explained every paragraph.
He approved no loan that day.
He earned no commission.
But the farmer returned months later with his adult son, who eventually opened a successful agricultural supply business.
Samuel had understood something Richard seemed to have forgotten.
Trust was not a distraction from banking.
Trust was the foundation of banking.
Eleanor looked up.
"Richard, when was the last time you spent an hour helping a customer who could do nothing for your career?"
The question surprised him.
"I meet with customers regularly."
"That wasn't my question."
He considered his answer.
"I have extensive executive responsibilities."
"I know."
"My schedule—"
"I know what an executive schedule looks like."
Richard fell silent.
Eleanor's eyes filled with tears.
"My husband worked sixteen-hour days when we opened the original branch. Sometimes he came home so exhausted he could barely stand. But if someone needed an explanation, he found time."
She looked toward the photograph.
"He believed that being important meant being responsible for people, not being superior to them."
The room remained silent.
Then she asked Thomas for a short recess.
She wanted to sit alone.
Thomas offered his office.
Eleanor declined.
Instead, she asked whether there was a small employee break room nearby.
Hannah led her down the hallway.
The room was modest, with a refrigerator, a microwave, and a round table beneath a window overlooking the parking garage.
Eleanor sat down with a sigh.
Hannah poured her a glass of water.
"Here you are, Mrs. Whitmore."
"Thank you, dear."
Hannah lingered near the doorway.
"May I ask you something?"