Chapter 6

Evelyn's POV

The Board of Trustees moved up the emergency review meeting.

This time, I didn't need to deliver the whole speech. I just had to show up and answer a few direct questions from the committee.

Alexander rushed back to my ward early in the morning, holding a fresh printout of the speech and a voice recorder.

"I'm going to be with you the entire time today, Evelyn," he promised.

I noticed a faint smell of clinical disinfectant on his coat sleeve.

I didn't ask about Pinecrest.

There was no point. As long as Allison kept playing the victim, Alexander would always find a logical, noble reason to run to her.

The drive to the corporate headquarters was dead silent.

Alexander kept glancing at me, but I kept my eyes on the window, clutching the voice recorder in my palm.

As we walked down the hallway outside the boardroom, I heard some board members whispering.

"She can't even get a full sentence out. Why are we keeping her mother's seat for her?"

"Did you see the leaked rehab logs? Alexander is treating Allison like a fragile glass doll."

"He's basically doing damage control for her. If Evelyn fails the presentation next month, the Sterling Group is going to look ridiculous."

I froze near the entrance.

I wanted to defend myself. I wanted to tell them I was fine. But my voice caught on the very first sound.

Seeing me, the whisperers immediately shut their mouths.

That mocking silence hurt worse than their words.

Alexander stepped up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder and glare sweeping over the executives.

"Anyone who has an issue with Miss Carter's status can submit their resignation today."

The executives' faces turned pale.

Before they could apologize, Alexander cut them off. "Did I stutter? Get out of my sight."

Once the meeting started, the head trustee flipped open my file. "Evelyn, your current medical status makes a live presentation highly risky. We suggest submitting a written report and letting a proxy read it for you."

Alexander immediately rejected the proposal.

"Absolutely not."

The trustee frowned. "Alexander, if she has a vocal block during the live broadcast, the legacy seat will be suspended by the regulators."

"Then give her one last chance to prove herself," Alexander said, his voice firm and unyielding. "Her mother built this foundation. No one is taking her seat before she gets to speak."

I sat beside him, my fingers squeezing the voice recorder.

I wanted to say I can do this.

But it felt like my throat was filled with dry sand.

The boardroom was locked in a tense standoff.

Eventually, the committee agreed to give me a final, one-month extension.

After the meeting, Alexander wheeled me into the private lounge.

For the first time, I turned on the voice recorder and slowly spoke a short sentence into it.

It took every ounce of my energy, but I finished it.

Seeing this, the tension in Alexander's shoulders finally broke.

At that exact moment, his assistant knocked and walked in, holding an urgent legal document from Pinecrest.

"Mr. Sterling, Allison's family is claiming that our aggressive legal pursuit caused her mental distress. They want you to sign a liability waiver now, or they will halt the public apology process."

Alexander grabbed the folder, his face turning incredibly dark.

I looked up at him, still holding the voice recorder.

Alexander put the file down on the table.

"I'm not going today."

The assistant whispered, "Sir, if you don't go, they will withdraw her apology draft. Without that, Evelyn's board confirmation next month will lack the necessary legal clearing."

Alexander's jaw clenched.

I placed the voice recorder on the table and slowly pushed it toward him.

I gestured for him to go.

Alexander stared at me, his eyes filled with pain. "I'll be back as soon as I sign it."

I didn't nod, and I didn't shake my head.

I just put the recorder back into my bag.

After Alexander left, I sat alone in the quiet lounge.

The executives he had kicked out earlier were still lingering in the hallway.

Soon, rumors about how Alexander was "covering up my incompetence" began to spread on the company's internal Snapchat channels.

Someone posted a screenshot: She can't even speak, but she's still holding onto the legacy seat. Alexander is doing all the heavy lifting behind the scenes.

I stared at the screen, then turned my phone face down.

The shared iCloud log updated again.

Allison's nurse had typed: Alexander came back to protect Evelyn's board seat. He really has no choice but to handle my issues.

I stared at the text. For the first time, I didn't take a screenshot.

I simply turned off my phone.

I waited in that room until the sky turned black.

Alexander never came back.