Chapter 19: The Serve (Part 2)
621 words
Sarah’s pulse hammered against her throat like a trapped bird. The polished mahogany doors of the boardroom loomed like the gates of a fortress, but she didn’t hesitate. She couldn't.
She shoved them open.
The heavy wood slammed against the stoppers, the sound echoing like a gunshot. Twenty heads in expensive suits snapped toward her. At the head of the table, Julian froze, his laser pointer hovering over a projected graph of rising stock prices.
He looked impeccable. Tailored navy suit, silk tie, not a hair out of place. Sarah caught her reflection in the glass wall—maternity dress stained with storage unit dust, hair wild, hands gray with grime.
"Security," Julian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't even look angry; he looked bored. "I specifically said to keep the vagrants out of the executive suite."
"I'm not a vagrant," Sarah said, her voice trembling not with fear, but with a rage so hot it felt like it was burning her skin.
"You look like one," Julian sneered, turning his cold, steel-blue eyes to the board members. "Gentlemen, apologies. My ex-wife is suffering from... financial delusions. She tends to get hysterical when her credit cards decline."
Small, nervous chuckles rippled through the room. The humiliation stung, prickly and hot, but Sarah locked her knees to keep from collapsing.
"I didn't come for my credit cards," she said, stepping into the room. The plush carpet swallowed the sound of her worn-out sneakers.
"Then what? Alimony?" Julian leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "I told you, Sarah. You get nothing. You’re a liability. A bad investment I’ve already written off."
He checked his watch, dismissing her presence entirely. "Go to the clinic downstairs. Maybe they have a coupon for prenatal vitamins."
Sarah reached the end of the long table. Her hand shook as she lifted the thick, black legal binder Marcus had prepared in the car. It was heavy—heavy with the weight of her unborn son’s life, of every lie Julian had ever told.
She didn't hand it to him. She slammed it down.
The sound cracked through the sterile air, toppling a crystal water pitcher. Water soaked into the documents, but the bold, red text on the cover remained visible.
"You might want to read that before you call security," Marcus Wolf said, stepping out from behind Sarah. His shark grin was back, sharp and terrifying.
Julian’s eyes narrowed. "Wolf. I thought you were chasing ambulances in the suburbs."
"I upgraded," Marcus said smoothly, buttoning his rumpled jacket. "To chasing monsters."
Julian struck a match of irritation and flipped the cover open. "What is this? A petition for more child support? A harassment suit? I have an army of lawyers who will bury this before lunch."
"Look at the header, Julian," Sarah whispered, her hands instinctively cradling her stomach.
Julian’s gaze dropped. He read the first line. Then the second.
The arrogance drained from his face like water from a cracked glass. His skin went gray.
"Mass Tort," a board member whispered, leaning over to read the bold print. "Class Action... Reckless Endangerment... Premeditated Corporate Homicide?"
"This is absurd," Julian sputtered, shoving the wet papers away. "It's a clerical error."
"It's the batch numbers," Marcus said, his voice carrying to the back of the room. "The ones you deleted. The ones we found."
Inside the binder, the copy of Sarah’s diary page lay open, the glued prescription label damningly clear.
Julian looked up, and for the first time, there was fear in his eyes. Behind him, the giant screen displaying the company's live stock ticker gave a sudden, violent lurch downward, flashing a warning red.
End of Chapter 19
