I already knew it wasn’t going to be small.
“Check the bank rejection report.”
“We don’t have access.”
“What?”
“Madison changed the process.”
Of course she had.
I stood up.
“Call your bank.”
“We did.”
“And?”
“They said the ACH file was rejected.”
“Why?”
“They wouldn’t tell us.”
“Then get the rejection code.”
Silence.
“I don’t know how.”
I rubbed my forehead.
That was the problem.
For ten years, I had trained people to know what to do when things went wrong.
Harold had spent three weeks convincing everyone that
