Evelyn Price reads network traffic the way other people read body language. Patterns, rhythms, the shape of something wrong before you can name it.
During a routine security audit for Thrivara Wellness, one of Utah's fastest-growing companies, she catches a cluster of distributor accounts logging in from Eastern Europe in the middle of the night. Accounts that belong to real people with Utah addresses. When she asks a careful question, the evidence disappears overnight, scrubbed clean with the efficiency of practice.
Thrivara isn't just a client. It's Utah County's favorite kind of success story: a polished MLM empire with church-friendly language, community gravity, and a CEO who doesn't just run a company. He's connected to Evelyn's workplace. To her ward. To her father.
She can sign off, stay quiet, and keep her life intact.
Or she can keep digging in a place where whistleblowers don't get threatened. They get managed. With concern. With silence. With doors that stop opening.