“Why are you telling me this?”
“I have six children, Mark. Leah is 12. I can’t hide this from her.”
“I know,” he agreed. “That’s why you need to come.”
I pressed mute. My youngest tugged at the hem of my shirt.
“Mommy?”
I crouched down and met her eyes. “Go sit with your brother, baby. I’ll be right there, okay?”
She nodded and padded off, dragging her stuffed bunny behind her.
I unmuted the call. “Fine. I’m coming.”
“I can’t hide this from her.”
I hung up and dialed Tessa from next door. She picked up after one ring.
“I need a favor,” I said.
“I’m already lacing up my sneakers, Paige,” she replied. “Just go.”
I didn’t even stop to change my clothes. I just grabbed my keys and purse, kissed the kids on their heads, and ran out.
The drive was a blur. My hands gripped the wheel too tight. My jaw ached from clenching. Rage sat beside me in the passenger seat.
**
“I need a favor.”
When I pushed through the office lobby doors, everything felt too polished, like a place where messes weren’t supposed to happen.
Mark was waiting near the front desk.
“They pulled reimbursement records,” he said as I approached. “Hotel bookings. Wellness claims. Several fancy gifts.”
I swallowed. “All tied to Alyssa?”
“They matched it all to her vendor profile,” Mark said grimly.
“Texts?”
“Oh yes,” he confirmed. “Expense reports, vendor logs, even his company phone records. HR’s got everything.”
“All tied to Alyssa?”
He jerked his chin toward the glass-walled conference room.
Through it, I saw Cole — standing, pacing, talking with his hands like he was giving a pitch. HR sat across from him, impassive. Darren, the CEO, looked exhausted. At the end of the table, a VP I’d only seen at the holiday party sat watching like a judge.
Then the door swung open.
Alyssa marched in, ponytail swinging, phone in hand, voice already raised. She didn’t bother to knock.
“What is she doing?” I whispered.
