ISABELLE
Thursday Evening
I scraped the last of the dinner plates into the trash while Sage rinsed dishes at the sink.
Mom was in the living room, resting on the couch after dinner. She’d been looking better lately—more color in her cheeks, more energy—but we still didn’t let her do much.
“So Enrico’s being an ass again?” Sage asked, handing me a plate to dry.
I nodded, my jaw tightening at the memory. “He paired me with Rachel on a new project.”
“Rachel?” Sage made a face. “The one who takes credit for your work?”
“That’s the one.” I dried the plate with more force than necessary. “I asked him to change the assignment. He told me if I didn’t like it, I should resign.”
Sage’s hands stilled under the running water. “He said what?”
“After everything I’ve done for that company,” I co
