"I'm sorry, Bob—it's all my fault! She only made you the scapegoat to protect me. But she's still recovering from childbirth, and she was so worried you'd be angry that she came to explain despite her health. Please don't blame her."
Greta's eyes filled with tender concern—for him. She turned an accusing glare on me.
"I came to tell you about this. That video was AI-generated. When it comes down to it, he's your brother—sacrificing yourself to help him is only right. And me helping him? That's helping you maintain your blood ties. Why do you have to be so aggressive toward him?"
She wasn't finished.
"Besides, you're unemployed. Reputation means nothing to you. Strangers can talk all they want—it won't change how I feel about you. I know the video is fake, and that's enough. But he's different. He has no one. His entire livelihood depends on media work. If his image is ruined, he loses everything."
Listening to her self-righteous justifications, all I felt was revulsion.
Unemployed. And whose fault was that?
Back then, she hadn't just pressured the company into firing me. She'd put the word out across the entire industry: anyone who hired me was making an enemy of her.