Chapter 4
Olivia showed up bright and early the next morning.
She was dressed in a beige suit, her hair pulled back neatly, and as soon as she walked in, she fired up her laptop.
"Let's start with the house," Olivia said, sorting through the documents I'd sent her the night before. "Down payment transfer, renovation payments, mortgage records, and the photo of the forged signature... All solid.
"Today, let's go to the real estate office and pull the records, then swing by the notary and ask about the appointment. Get a copy of everything you can. Don't leave anything behind."
"Got it," I said.
"So, are you really sure about the divorce?" Olivia asked.
I nodded.
She glanced up at me, her expression serious. "You're not just pissed off, right? This is for real?"
"I've made up my mind," I replied.
"Alright," Olivia said, sliding a checklist across the table. "Then don't look back."
I looked at those three lines, and suddenly, I felt a calm settle over me.
Get all the evidence.
Document the separation.
Split the assets.
Olivia looked at me. "Is there trouble at BrightPath Media too?"
I gave her the rundown on BrightPath Media and the whole Lights of Old Town project.
Olivia let out a cold laugh. "Andrew's got some nerve. His family's trying to drain you dry in the marriage, then he tried to erase you from the company like you never existed."
"Everything's on my laptop: the drafts, the interviews, recordings, photos, timestamps, all of it," I said.
"Good," Olivia said, tapping the desk. "Go to the office today and back up all your personal work that you can legally take with you. Don't delete anything, and don't get into any arguments. Make sure you have what's yours."
She paused, then added, "And if Andrew tries to shut you down with 'don't make a scene,' remember this: someone who always asks you to be understanding is not willing to understand you."
I smiled. "You still know how to throw shade."
"I'm just laying down the law," she said.
*****
At ten in the morning, I went to the property office and the notary office.
The situation was even worse than I'd imagined.
The staff at the property office told me that the documents I submitted yesterday included a draft of a spouse authorization letter. They only asked me to come in because the signature looked suspicious, so they needed me to verify it in person.
At the notary office, they confirmed that Maria had an appointment scheduled for tomorrow at ten in the morning.
The note said: [One spouse is unable to attend, so a family member would take care of it.]
A family member would take care of it.
They'd already treated me like a non-entity, someone who didn't even need to show up.
I walked out of the notary office with the appointment details and texted Olivia.
She replied quickly: [Keep gathering evidence. Go to the office this afternoon, and make sure you're recording everything.]
I took a deep breath and took a cab to BrightPath Media.
As soon as I walked in, the receptionist's face turned a bit awkward when she saw me.
"Grace, you're here," she said.
I nodded, and as I walked toward my desk, I saw Sophia sitting in the seat that used to be mine at the head of the conference room, talking to the design team about the PPT adjustments.
On the projector screen, a line in big, bold letters caught my eye.
It read: [Project Lead: Sophia Lane
[Lead Planner: Sophia Lane]
My name was gone.
I stood at the door, frozen for a moment.
It didn't hurt.
Really didn't hurt anymore.
It was like a piece of flesh that had been sliced so many times, all that was left was numbness.
Sophia spotted me first and flashed a smile. "Grace, just in time. Can you tweak yesterday's copy? The client thinks it's too warm and personal. They want something more sophisticated."
I didn't budge.
Everyone in the conference room turned to stare at me.
I asked, "When did you become the lead planner for this project?"
Sophia arched an eyebrow. "Andrew didn't fill you in? From today on, I'm running this project. Full authority. If you're up for it, you can stick around and help with the execution."
"So whose plan are we actually executing?"
"The company's plan, obviously."
I nodded, walked in, and plugged my hard drive into the conference room computer.
Sophia frowned, her voice sharp. "What are you doing?"
I started opening files one by one.
The earliest interview notes, created four months ago by me.
The project naming brainstorm doc, created by me.
The first draft of the core concept PPT, created by me.
The seventh version of the client presentation, with 386 edits logged. Last saved by me.
I didn't look at anyone, just said calmly, "Miss Lane, I get that this is the company's plan. But you can't call yourself the lead planner."