Her stomach churned. Winn had been right—it was done remotely. She leaned back in her chair, blinking fast, but the tears still burned, spilling anyway. The question knotted in her chest: Why me? If they wanted to destroy the mall project, why use her as the scapegoat, the disposable one?
The sound of heels clicking across the floor startled her. She quickly dabbed at her eyes with the sleeve of her blouse, but Lydia's hawk eyes caught it instantly. Lydia sauntered in with the kind of smugness only she could muster, her lips painted a poisonous shade of red.
"Someone has been dumped," Lydia sang out in a sing-song voice, her laugh echoing through the open floor.
Ivy grabbed her notepad and pen and headed for the stairs. The simple act of walking away was her only shield.
