Chapter 4 - The Price of Quiet
By morning, the first video had reached social media.
It began with Abigail crouching in broken glass.
The slap was missing.
A caption called her an aggressive employee who had threatened a donor.
Someone had slowed the moment when her tray tipped, making it look deliberate.
Abigail watched it once.
Then she turned off the phone.
“That’s not what happened.”
“I know,” Isabella said.
“You were there. Everybody else gets this.”
A message from the catering company arrived before breakfast.
Her remaining shifts had been canceled pending review.
Below it came a notice from her landlord.
The rent was overdue.
Abigail laughed once, without humor.
“They work fast.”
Matteo arrived with a woman carrying a worn leather briefcase.
“This is Nora Bell. She represents people who get pushed around by employers.”
Nora pulled up a chair.
“Only if you want me to represent you.”
“What do you charge?”
“We can discuss a fee arrangement that doesn’t require money today.”
“Is he paying you?”
“He offered. I would still answer to you.”
Abigail studied her.
“And if I tell you to do something he doesn’t like?”
“Then he’ll have a disappointing afternoon.”
For the first time since the ballroom, Abigail almost smiled.
Nora photographed the mark on her cheek with permission, saved the altered video, and asked Abigail to tell the story from the beginning.
Halfway through, a hospital employee delivered an envelope.
Inside was an offer from Sinclair’s lawyer.
Fifty thousand dollars.
Medical expenses covered.
A statement describing an accidental collision.
A confidentiality agreement.
Abigail read the number twice.
It was enough to pay the rent. Clear the bills. Buy a crib that hadn’t already held three other children.
Nora didn’t reach for the papers.
“You can take time.”
“What happens if I sign?”
“We would need to examine every clause. But they want your silence and a release of claims.”
Matteo stood by the window.
He said nothing.
Abigail appreciated that more than she expected.
She turned to the last page.
There, tucked into the dense language, was a release concerning claims connected to Sinclair Freight and its subsidiaries.
Daniel’s employer.
Her hand stopped.
“This isn’t just about the slap.”
Nora leaned forward.
“No.”
Abigail slid the papers across the bed.
“Tell them I’m not signing.”
Her phone buzzed again.
An unknown number.
May you like
One sentence.
Your husband should have taken the deal, too.
