Carrie did not even let Sofia finish her sentence before her voice cracked through the office like a blade. It was sharp enough to slice the air clean in half. Joan and Damien both froze in place. Joan still had her iced latte lifted halfway to her mouth and Damien had his legs crossed like a fainting Victorian heiress. Both stared at Sofia as if she had just announced the apocalypse.
“They said what?” Carrie demanded. Even the orchids on her desk seemed to flinch.
Sofia sat pale and trembling, hands gripping the edge of the chair like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “They told me silence was the best strategy,” she whispered. “They said I should wait it out. That Tristan’s reputation can handle it. As if mine does not matter. As if I am nothing.”
Joan muttered a curse under
