“I need it in writing.”
Behind him, Alyssa scoffed. “Oh my gosh.”
I turned to face her. She looked ready to launch, eyes narrowed, lips parted.
But before she could speak, the woman in the navy blazer stepped into the hallway.
“Alyssa,” she said, calm but ice-cold. “Your contract is terminated effective immediately. Legal will follow up. Don’t return to this building.”
“You’re joking, Deborah,” she said. “I work here.”
“Your contract is terminated.”
“This is not a discussion,” Deborah added, and the hallway went very quiet.
Cole turned. “You can’t just fire her like that —”
“We can,” Deborah said. “And we are.”
She turned to Cole. “Effective today, you’re on unpaid suspension pending termination. Turn in your badge.”
A security guard stepped closer, already holding a clipboard.
That shut him up.
“Turn in your badge.”
For a second, no one moved. Alyssa’s face drained of color. Cole looked like someone had pulled the floor out from under him.
I stepped toward Cole. “I’m going home. To our children.”
