Sienna lost her job on a Friday afternoon in late February.
Not the administrative leave she'd been on for two weeks while the board "investigated" Dante's baseless accusations. Not a temporary suspension while they sorted through non-existent evidence. Actual termination. The kind that came with a severance package in a manila envelope and a carefully worded letter from HR that used phrases like "mutual agreement" and "best interests of all parties" and didn't fool anyone about what had actually happened.
Gerald Richardson called her into his office at exactly four PM. The timing felt deliberate. Strategic. Late enough that most of the staff had already left for the weekend, their desks abandoned and computers darkened. Early enough that the few remaining colleagues would witness her collecting her belongings and walking out with a cardboard box of shame.
