Elena’s POV

The boardroom is finally empty, though its silence is loud. It is a wound that hasn’t stopped bleeding. Papers lie scattered across the polished surface, the air heavy with the remnants of accusation and shame. I remain seated long after everyone leaves, fingers resting on the table where they had once pointed at me, accusing, dismissing, deciding. The room smells faintly of coffee and fear, and I can still hear the echo of Isabella’s voice, bitter, trembling, and ...