I was still reeling from Maya’s confession when I saw it.
Through the glass wall of the executive boardroom, Victoria stood at the head of the polished mahogany table, a confident smile on her face. My son, Marcus, sat beside her, fidgeting with his tie. Two other faces, relatives from the board, nodded along as Victoria spoke.
She held a stack of papers, pristine white against the dark wood. I watched as she slid them across the table, first to Marcus, then to the others. They looked like legal documents, crisp and official.
Marcus picked up his copy, his eyes scanning the first page. A tremor went through his hand, visible even from the hallway. He looked up at Victoria, a question in his gaze.
Victoria leaned in, her voice too low for me to hear the exact words, but her tone was sharp, insistent. Her gestures were expansive, pointing to sections of the document, then tapping her watch.
I knew that look. It was the same one she used when she wanted to close a deal, when she saw weakness and moved in for the kill.
Then I heard fragments. “Eleanor’s erratic behavior,” she murmured, loud enough to carry through the slight gap in the door seal. “Her grief… becoming a liability.”
My stomach clenched. I knew what this was about. She was building a case against me.
Victoria then spoke about “financial stability” and “securing $12 million in expansion capital” for the company. She looked directly at Marcus, her words a siren song of opportunity, a golden leash. His hesitation melted away like ice in the summer sun.
He reached for the pen Victoria offered. The scratch of it on paper was barely audible, yet it echoed in my ears like a gunshot. My own son, signing away my competence, my voice, my place on the board.
The other two men followed, their signatures a silent agreement. A chill spread through me, colder than the air conditioning in the hallway. This wasn’t just about the bears anymore. It was about tearing down everything I had built, starting with me.
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