She had crawled out of the pantry, following light. To her, the massive wooden table looked like a familiar tunnel. At home, she crawled under the coffee table. She knew nothing of millions, fraud, or betrayal. Only noise, fear, and the need for safety.
At first she was invisible. A whisper beneath the table.
Then a small movement near a chair.
No one noticed—
until Roberto stepped back nervously and almost stepped on her.
He looked down, his face twisting in disgust.
“What the hell…? Where did that come from?”
That.
Hearing his harsh tone, Bia shrank back. She recognized men like him—loud voices, sudden movements, danger in the air. Roberto flicked his foot like shooing an animal.
“Out. Go away. Get out!”
Bia’s lip trembled. Then the cry burst out—loud, desperate, as if the whole night had collapsed into her chest.
The directors stood in confusion. Arthur turned—
And at that exact moment, Amanda burst through the service door like a mother running through fire.
She didn’t see power or suits or money. She saw her daughter on the floor… and a man treating her like trash.
Something broke inside her.
“Don’t touch her!” she screamed, lifting Bia in one motion.