JACK
The silence is instant, like someone cut the power to the room. Someone lets out a half-choked cough.
And then Edison—recovering—leans forward. “Jack—”
“I’m not finished,” I say, eyes still forward. “I’m proud of the work I’ve done here. I’m proud of what this company was meant to be. But I can’t keep pretending we’re living up to that vision.”
More silence.
“We preach loyalty. Family. Integrity. But the second something doesn’t fit into the approved narrative, we erase it. We erase her.”
Gasps ripple through the audience now. Heads turning. People whispering. Phil goes still. I look directly at him.
“The woman you all watched pull off the most successful gala in VT history—she’s not here anymore. And you can thank people like Edison for that.”
Edison shifts in his seat, but
