By the time Friday night came, Sari felt like a thread about to snap. Three weeks in Manila, three weeks of fire.
She’d already spoken to Matthew twice since their first mediation, both times through the Metroline corporate line, both times ending with her wanting to throw her phone against a wall.
The first call had yielded nothing; they’d spent it taking jabs at each other.The second had been worse.
Now, the weight of everything was pressing down on her, her father’s stroke, UCLH’s suspension, Ardent Lex’s blockade. Her carefully built composure was starting to crack.
So when Joan called that night, Sari didn’t even have the energy to argue.
“I’m picking you up,” Joan declared. “No negotiations. You, me, and Mariella are going out. We’re drinking enough to forget men with too much m
