She turned to face Poppi, her gaze frantic now, desperation creeping into her voice. "She must have sold the designs, the blueprints, the plans to them. She must've sold everything we've worked for! How else could this footage exist? How else could she be so confident?" Penelope's breath came in shallow bursts as she continued to spiral, her panic contagious.
Poppi's eyes narrowed, her face unreadable, though the sharpness in her gaze suggested that she, too, was beginning to take this possibility seriously. But Poppi didn't immediately respond. The silence between mother and daughter felt thick, almost suffocating. Penelope was growing frantic, her eyes darting around the room as if looking for someone to confirm her suspicions.
