“She lost control.”
“Yes.”
“And security footage will show it.”
His voice dropped.
“We can handle this privately.”
There it was.
Not:
I’m calling police.
Not:
She’s fired.
Privately.
I asked:
“Are you coming?”
“You cannot order me around.”
“I’m giving you one opportunity to demonstrate whether you understand what just happened.”
“Claire, go home.”
Five minutes ended in my head before the clock did.
“Goodbye, Adrian.”
I drove to Westbridge Legal Group.
By the time I arrived, Daniel had already arranged for photographs.
