Chapter 3

A few days later, Nora was discharged.

Mom and Dad loaded me into the car and drove me to the office.

The lobby — usually all clean lines and quiet professionalism — was packed.

Every employee in the building had been called down.

The LED screen at the center of the room looped two videos on repeat.

The first showed Nora on a volunteer trip, handing out school supplies to kids in a rural county.

The second showed her at the office past midnight, surrounded by Westside Project files.

Dad took the microphone and stepped up to the front.

"I owe each of you an explanation. The Holt family made the mistake of bringing back a young woman with no character and no gratitude."

"Out of jealousy, she spread vile rumors about Nora throughout this company."

"She has damaged our reputation and disgraced this family."

Mom stood beside him dabbing her eyes, every inch the wounded mother.

The murmuring started immediately.

"Rags to riches and rotten underneath — what a surprise."

"Heard she grew up rough. People like that, you can never trust them around nice things."

"She'd slander her own sister. What wouldn't she do?"

The voices crashed over me from every direction.

Nora let Nathan guide her forward until she was standing directly in front of me.

She was holding a single sheet of paper — Statement of Confession and Apology printed across the top in clean, official type.

"I know why you did it, Rhea."

"Sign this, clear my name properly, and get on your knees and apologize in front of everyone. Do that, and I'll forgive you."

I stared at her face. That carefully arranged expression of wounded generosity.

My chest was heaving.

"I never said any of those things," I said. "And if I had actually said you slept with—"

Nathan's foot drove into the back of my knee.

My legs folded. Both knees hit the marble floor at once.

The pain detonated up through my joints and exploded along every nerve in my body.

Cold sweat soaked through my shirt before I'd drawn another breath.

Laughter broke out across the lobby. Phones rose. Flashes went off in my face.

Around me, people laughed. Phones came out. Cameras flashed.

"Serves her right."

The humiliation moved through me like something physical — slow, corrosive, thorough.

And then, from somewhere in the crowd, a voice cut through everything.

"She didn't spread those rumors. I was there. I can prove it."

The room went silent.

Every head turned.

It was Casey — the intern I'd found crying in the break room on my first day, after her supervisor had torn into her in front of the whole floor.

I'd sat with her for ten minutes. Brought her a coffee. Told her she'd done nothing wrong.

She pushed through the crowd and planted herself in front of me, facing Nora.

"I was working late that night." Her voice shook but held.

"I saw Ms. Blake get into Mr. Stratton's car in the parking garage. I saw what happened in the back seat. I recorded it."

The lobby went airless.

The color drained from Nora's face.

Then she turned it around in two seconds flat, spinning toward Nathan, burying her face in his collar.

"How much did Rhea pay her?" she sobbed. "She couldn't spread enough lies herself, so she hired someone?"

"I can't do this anymore. I don't want to live like this."

The crowd's shock curdled back into contempt.

Nathan stepped forward and backhanded Casey across the face before she could say another word.

She stumbled and went down hard. Blood at the corner of her mouth.

I pulled against the guards holding me. "Stop—"

"Get her out of this building," Dad said into the microphone.

"Terminate her contract. Blacklist her across the industry."

Four security guards moved in.

Casey curled on the floor with her arms over her head while they hit her.

Her cries got quieter. Then quieter still.