“That’s enough.” Connor’s voice cut across the table like a blade. He set down his fork with deliberate care. His handswere perfectly steady, but his eyes had gone cold. “With all due respect, you two have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Mom blinked, startled. “Excuse me?”
“Your daughter stood up for what was right when no one else would. She reported financial fraud at her firm—fraud that would have cost investors millions. And she didn't get fired, she quit. Because she refused to compromise her ethics.” His voice was calm, controlled, but absolutely unyielding. “That’s not weakness. That’s integrity.”
Their silence was deafening. I stared at him, my heart pounding.
Mom’s face had gone pale. “I don’t appreciate being lectured in—”
“Then maybe you should stop lecturing your daughter.” Connor’s tone was polite, but there was steel underneath. “Her choice took courage. She chose her principles over her paycheck. And instead of supporting her, you’ve shamed her for refusing to be complicit in fraud.”
“Connor,” I said again, my voice shaking. “It’s okay—”
“It’s not okay.” He looked at me now. “None of this is okay. You’re extraordinary, Hannah. And if they can’t see that, that’s their problem, not yours.”
Connor turned back to my parents, his expression cold. “Until you’re ready to apologize to your daughters—both of them—I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Mom stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “Let's go, Robert.”
I stood when she did, frozen at the table as they gathered their coats. Mom wouldn’t look at me, and Dad followed her.
Then they were gone.
Connor
Thedoorclickedshutbehind Hannah’s parents. I stood beside the table, the ruined dinner still spread out, my hands clenched into fists.
Hannah stood frozen, staring at the door. Her face was pale, her hands trembling.
I needed to do something. I couldn’t just stand here watching Hannah hurt.
“You should sit,” I said, pulling out her chair.
She didn’t move. Just stared at the door like her parents might come back.
“Hannah.” I touched her elbow, guiding her toward the chair. “Sit. Please.”
She let me guide her down, mechanical. My chest tightened.
“You need water.” I was already moving toward the kitchen, grabbing a glass, filling it at the tap. My hands were steady—they were always steady when there was a task to complete. “Here. Drink.”
I pressed the glass into her hand. She took one sip. Not enough. I took her wrist gently, checking her pulse. Elevated. Her skin was cold.
She pulled her wrist away. “Connor, I’m fine—”
“You’re not fine.” I released her wrist and started clearing plates from the table. Give her space but keep things organized. That’s what you do in a crisis—handle the logistics. “We should talk about the interview. Maybe I should rent a car for the 28th. It’ll be quieter than the train, we can work on interview questions during the drive.”
Hannah stood up, moving away from the table. Away from me.
“And I’ll send you notes on Victoria’s leadership style tonight. What she values, how she makes decisions.” I grabbed my phone, opening my calendar. “Tomorrow I can get your suit to the dry cleaner, load some boxes in the car so the movers don’t have to deal with the fragile items—”
“Connor.” Her voice cut through my planning. Sharp. “Stop.”
I looked up.
Hannah's hands pressed flat against the table like she needed it to hold her up. “Just—stop. Stop cleaning. Stop planning. Stopfixing.”
“I’m just trying to help—” I set down the phone but my hands immediately went back to the plates, needing something to do. “If we can show them you’re successful, if you nail this interview—”
