But Mia’s voice was never once vindictive as she continued, “However, there’s potential for restructuring.” She maintained her professional tone. Eleanor was forced to listen, cheeks pale, pride wrestling with the reality of dependence.
After the meeting, Eleanor lingered by the door. “Your presentation made a lot of sense,” she said almost reluctantly. Mia smiled. “As it should, I went over everything twice.” The words weren’t cruel, just balanced. It was the quiet restoration of justice.