The rest of the women in the breakroom blanched, their laughter dying instantly in their throats. They shoved their phones into pockets and purses as if hiding contraband weapons.
"Apologies, Madam Chairwoman," one stammered, her face pale. "We're returning to our desks immediately." They scattered like roaches when the lights turn on, leaving Serena Montgomery alone in the sterile silence of the kitchenette.
Serena walked over to the sink, her movements stiff. She picked up her favorite ceramic mug—a gift from her late father—and stared at it for a moment. Then, with a sudden, violent motion, she hurled it into the basin. It shattered into jagged shards.
She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She just stared at the broken pieces, feeling like her own dignity lay there with them. Liam wasn'
