Page 168 of Sin

“We’re almost done.”

That gets my attention.

Across the table, Owen Sinclair sits beside an outside HR attorney, looking like he has personally aged eleven years since this whole thing started. Tate is beside him, quiet but kind-eyed, which is unfair because kind eyes are legally dangerous to women trying not to cry in conference rooms. There are two shareholders on the video screen, Mara at my right, and a formal agreement in front of me thick enough to qualify as light reading for an insomniac lawyer.

Owen clears his throat. “The board has completed its internal review.”

My fingers tighten around my pen.

Owen continues, “Based on the evidence reviewed, including communications, travel documentation, reporting structures, and interviews, SINsual Adult Toys will not be taking disciplinary action against you.”

For a second, I don’t understand the words. They reach me out of order. Will not. Disciplinary action. Against you. My breath catches.

Mara glances at me. “Breathe.”

I do.

Owen’s expression softens by the smallest fraction. “Your job is secure, Laurel.”

A strange, shaky relief moves through me, but it is tangled with exhaustion and anger and grief and something that feels too close to humiliation to name. Because I shouldn’t have needed a room full of people to decide whether I still deserved the career I built.

Tate leans forward. “You’re free to return when you’re ready.”

“When I’m ready?” I repeat.

“Yes,” Owen says.

I look at Mara. She nods once. This is good. This is what we wanted. Why does it make me want to curl under the table and sleep for nine years?

Owen slides a document toward Mara. “There will be a formal anti-retaliation agreement. Continued legal support related to harassment connected to the disclosure. Additional building security if needed. Your reporting structure has been modified. You’ll report directly to Tate for product matters, with HR oversight from an outside consultant.”

“Not Sin,” I say before I can stop myself.

The room goes quiet. Wonderful. Love that for me.

Owen’s eyes remain steady. “No. Not Sin.”

Tate’s expression flickers with sympathy. I hate sympathy almost as much as I hate this.

“Sin has recused himself from all employment decisions involving you,” Owen says. “Compensation. Advancement. Project assignment. Disciplinary issues. Anything related to Sex Activity Pro.”

At the word Sex Activity Pro, my stomach tightens. Of course they know. Everyone knows everything now.

Owen continues, “He will remain physically separate from any meeting involving your employment status. If you return to the office, there will be protocols.”

Protocols. Such a cold word for please do not let the CEO and lead designer make another catastrophic decision near office furniture.

I nod. “Okay.”

Mara cuts in. “We’ll need the final language on the non-retaliation provision before Laurel signs.”

“Of course,” Owen says.

“And confirmation in writing that her consideration of outside employment will not affect any severance, bonus eligibility, launch credit, intellectual property attribution, or future reference.”

Tate nods. “Agreed.”

One of the shareholders on-screen says, “We also want to be clear that Ms. Cross’s work on the Sins line remains highly valued.”