Beauty woke up Sunday morning to sunlight streaming through her apartment windows and the crushing weight of unemployment pressing down on her chest. She'd barely left her bed in the two days since her suspension, surviving on crackers and whatever she could find in her nearly empty refrigerator. The shame of being escorted from Venturi Enterprises like a criminal played on repeat in her mind, each memory fresh as an open wound.
Her phone buzzed constantly with calls from Agnes and Sandra, but Beauty couldn't bring herself to answer. What was there to say? That she'd been framed by someone smart enough to cover their tracks? That her career was likely over before it had really begun? That she might never work in corporate America again? She didn't want sympathy from anyone, she just wante
