My Husband Fired Me in Front of 400 Guests Beneath the Grand Meridian’s Crystal Chandeliers, While His Mistress Sat Near the Stage and Slowly Applauded.

He disconnected.

Margaret emailed at 12:43 a.m.

She attached three archived grant authorizations retained by Hart Trust governance counsel.

I inspected the first.

My submission.

My proposed budget.

The authorization trail.

Approved.

Second.

Approved.

Third.

Approved.

I compared them against screenshots Sloane showed at an internal review weeks before.

The authorization codes were absent.

Not denied.

Simply erased.

My stomach clenched.

I recalled the meeting.

Sloane had sat across from me and asked, “Are you sure you submitted these properly?”

“Yes.”

“Because I’m looking at the system.”

“So am I.”

Yet when I logged in, the statuses read “Pending Executive Authorization.”

I assumed I’d made a mistake.

Camden had been furious.

“You keep putting me in impossible positions,” he’d said afterward.

I’d apologized.

The recollection stung, because I had accepted blame without knowing the underlying record had been altered.

I’d apologized for somebody else’s alteration.

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