Julian’s accusation of jealousy hung in the air, a pathetic, last-ditch attempt to reframe his catastrophe as my emotional failing. The board members watched me, their faces grim, waiting for my rebuttal, for the tearful denial or the furious counter-attack.
They were about to be disappointed.
“Jealousy?” I repeated the word, my voice devoid of heat. It felt like analyzing a foreign specimen. “Julian, jealousy implies a desire for something you possess. Look around this room. Look at the ruin you’ve orchestrated. There is nothing here I want.”
I let that sink in before turning back to the main screen. The technical autopsy was over. Now came the moral one.
“He’s right about one thing,” I said, addressing the board directly. “I did burn it down. Because a foundation built on a lie deser
