Chapter 2

The line rang twice. Then came the soft click of an answered call.

"Hey, honey," Gavin's voice boomed through the speaker, smooth, warm, and flawlessly composed. "Is everything alright? You know I'm tied up."

Two hundred people held their breath. Nobody breathed. Nobody dared to rattle a fork.

"Where are you right now, Gavin?" I asked.

My voice was quiet, pleasant, and completely devoid of emotion.

A heavy, put-upon sigh drifted across the line, followed by the deliberate rustle of paperwork.

"Still stuck at headquarters, babe," he said smoothly. "This quarterly audit is an absolute nightmare. The board is breathing down my neck. I won't be able to get away until midnight at the earliest."

He paused, lowering his tone into that soft, attentive cadence that used to make me feel cherished.

"Did Mason enjoy his team dinner? Don't let him run around in the cold air afterward. Keep his coat zipped so his chest stays warm, okay? I love you both."

Every tender syllable felt like a calculated slap against the silence of the room.

I glanced toward the stage. Sienna was gripping the wooden edges of the podium so hard her knuckles were white. All the color had vanished from her face.

At the table to my left, two executive board members exchanged grim, tight-lipped looks. This was no longer just a messy domestic affair. This was the senior director of their youth center carrying on an illicit relationship with a corporate partner on center grounds.

"Understood," I replied softly. "Work hard. Don't exhaust yourself."

"Always, babe. See you at home later."

I pressed the red circle on my screen and ended the call.

I offered no explanation. I gave no speech. I didn't look around the room searching for pity or validation.

I simply let two hundred witnesses hear the exact lie they had just read with their own eyes.

A low, collective murmur rippled across the round tables. Parents covered their mouths, leaning close to whisper. The club president leaned over to his legal counsel, his expression hardening by the second. The breach of ethics was impossible to sweep under the rug.

Sienna cleared her dry throat, desperately trying to pull the spotlight back to herself.

"As you can all hear," she said, her voice wavering dangerously, "Mr. Vance is detained at his corporate office. The text was obviously a misdirected message from a staff member. I apologize again for the misunderstanding."

Desperate to restore normalcy, she jammed the cable back into her tablet port, eager to flash the fundraising charts back onto the wall.

She genuinely thought she had survived it. She thought Gavin's polished performance had built her an alibi solid enough to finish the evening and slip away unnoticed.

I slipped my phone back into my evening bag and set my linen napkin neatly beside my untouched plate.

Then, three seconds later, the projector whirred back to life.

Sienna had forgotten to turn off screen mirroring.

A new notification banner dropped down from the top edge of the display, vibrating violently against the white background.