Elena's POV
The morning light, usually so indifferent, felt charged today. I smoothed the lapel of my suit one last time, my reflection in the full-length mirror unwavering. Yvon, already impeccably dressed, stood beside me, a stack of folders clutched in her hands.
“Remember the plan, Yvon,” I said, my voice steady. “No matter what they throw at us, we stick to the facts. Professionalism above all else. This isn't about personal vendettas, it's about business. Understood?”
She nodded, her expression serious. “Understood, Elena. We’ve been over this a hundred times.”
“Good,” I affirmed, turning from the mirror. My stomach gave a familiar lurch, a mix of anticipation and something harder, colder.
A soft knock came at the door. “Mommy?” a small voice called out.
My resolve softened in
