My Fake Death Was The Punchline To His Cruel Joke Chapter 25
One person had coordinated with security. Another had suggested using the staff entrance for my exit. A third had reserved the best table by the window for a clear filming angle.
The profile pictures from the chat log stared back at the pale, sweating faces around the conference table.
A woman suddenly pointed at the man beside her.
“Camille made us do it! She said if we didn’t cooperate, the Mercer family would pull their business from our company!”
The man spun on her.
“You’re lying! You were the one who locked the terrace door in test seventeen!”
“You gave me the key!”
“And you swapped out her speech!”
“That was your idea!”
The room erupted.
They scrambled over each other to prove they were the least culpable, every excuse an unwitting confession to another crime.
Leo didn’t interrupt.
He simply turned on the audio recorder and let them talk.
By the time their lawyer managed to shout them into silence, it was too late.
I sat on my side of the table and, for the first time, felt the laughter that had haunted my nights for three years begin to fade.
They had once used the weight of the group to convince me I was too sensitive, that I couldn’t take a joke.
Today, in their frantic efforts to betray one another, they had told the court everything it needed to know:
Not a single one of them was innocent.
When the meeting ended, the woman who had started the chain reaction of accusations followed me into the hall.
“Mara, I was just scared. I didn’t want to be excluded from the group.”
I stopped walking.
“So you chose to push me out instead.”
Her face went white.
“I’m willing to apologize. Privately.”
“Save it for the courtroom. You can say it under oath.”
The elevator doors closed, and I left her standing there.