The sudden cold made my unborn baby kick sharply. “Try to focus on the positive,” she added cruelly.
“At least you’re clean now.” Brendan laughed again, and Jessica chuckled behind her perfectly manicured nails.
“Make sure she uses an old towel,” Jessica said lightly. “We wouldn’t want that smell touching the expensive linens.”
I sat there dripping onto the floor, shivering on the metal chair. They were clearly waiting for tears—for me to beg or storm out.
But the sadness slowly disappeared, replaced by a cold, steady focus. I took out my phone while drops of water fell onto the Persian rug—the same rug I had personally approved during the company’s renovation budget three years earlier.
Jessica laughed again. “Who are you calling? A charity hotline? It’s Sunday, sweetheart.”
“Brendan,” Diane said lazily while pouring another glass of wine, “just give her twenty dollars for a taxi so she can leave.”
I ignored them and tapped the contact labeled Arthur – EVP Legal. He answered immediately.
“Cassidy?” Arthur said, his voice alert. “Is everything okay?” “Arthur,” I said calmly, my voice cutting through the laughter around the table.
