The mediation ended exactly how Sari expected, badly.
Not a single agreement had been made. Not one inch of progress.
What was supposed to be a professional attempt at resolution had turned into a two-hour verbal sparring match that left the mediator sweating, Mariella exhausted, and Matthew looking smug enough to punch.
The mediator had finally raised both hands in defeat, muttering something about “heightened emotions” and “a need for further discussion.”
Translation: everyone needed another round.
Another mediation.
Two weeks later.
When the announcement was made, Sari’s jaw nearly hit the table.
“Two weeks?” she repeated, her voice cutting through the room. “That’s absurd. We just wasted an entire morning so he could grandstand and now we’re delaying again?”
The mediator offer
