“Your access to the Halden servers was disabled at 4:00 PM this afternoon,” Mercer said, entirely unfazed by her manic outburst. “Our outside counsel, Harrison & Vance, sent a formal notice of termination to your personal email an hour ago. You haven’t opened it. I suggest you do.”
Vanessa snatched her phone from a pearl-covered clutch held by a frightened bridesmaid.
Her fingers moved frantically.
Then she stopped.
I watched her read the message.
The anger drained from her face, replaced by unmistakable terror.
A guest murmured, “Is she serious?”
Nearby, a younger cousin raised his phone and began recording.
Mercer lifted his hand.
“Please, put the phones away. This is a private corporate matter.”
The cousin lowered his phone.
I was grateful.
I did not want a viral spectacle.
I wanted the truth to remain intact.
But Vanessa was not finished.
She dropped her phone.
It struck the marble floor with a sharp crack.
