Page 136 of Wild Card 13

“It appears to say Hamster Limestone.”

“I know what it says.”

I looked down at my own copy. “The emergency contact list is behind the red tab.”

Ty did not respond immediately. When I finally looked up, he was no longer smiling. His eyes moved briefly over my face, then toward the stack of papers I had realigned twice since he sat down. “What happened after the meeting?”

My fingers stopped against the edge of the page. “Nothing that concerns you.”

“Something happened.”

Dottie shifted against his leg before slowly making her way back around the desk. She rested her head across my knee again, reclaiming her earlier position as though she had decided the diplomatic portion of the afternoon was complete. I smoothed my hand over the top of her head. “We have already covered everything you need for tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He looked down at the packet again and turned the page.

The lack of pressure unsettled me more than persistence wouldhave. Old Ty would have kept going. He would have made a joke, asked the question differently, tried to charm the truth out of me because silence had always made him restless.

This version simply accepted that I had drawn a line. And somehow that made me want to step across it. I stared at the printed schedule without reading a single word. “I fired Charlotte.”

Ty’s hand stilled against the page. When he looked up again, the movement was slow. “You did it?”

I swallowed. “Yes. I did it.”

His expression remained carefully neutral. “Was it your first time?”

I nodded once. The admission should not have felt personal. It was a professional fact. An ordinary milestone in a leadership role I had accepted willingly and earned through months of work. Still, saying it aloud made something twist beneath my ribs. “I hated it,” I said.

Ty waited.

“She deserved to be fired,” I continued, before he could misunderstand. “She knowingly withheld information. She undermined Bea, neglected an event involving children and families, and left the organization exposed. There was no alternative outcome.”

“I know.”

“I had documentation. Human Resources agreed. My father agreed. Sarah agreed.”

“Lucy.” The quiet way he said my name stopped me. His elbows rested against his thighs, his hands loose between them. There was no trace of impatience in his face. “You don’t have to convince me.”

My fingers tightened gently in Dottie’s fur. “I’m not trying to convince you.”

“Okay.”

I exhaled sharply. “Stop saying that.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “Saying what?”

“Okay.”

“You want me to argue?”

“No.”

“Good, because I wasn’t planning to.”

I looked away from him and toward the glass wall beside mydesk. Two staff members passed through the corridor carrying a box of sponsor materials between them. Neither glanced inside.

The entire building had continued moving after Charlotte left. Emails were rerouted. Credentials were suspended. Meetings were reassigned. Her office had already been locked pending an inventory of organizational property. A person could disappear from a place with alarming efficiency once the correct forms had been submitted.

“I knew it had to happen,” I said more quietly. “I still hated being the person who did it.”