Chapter 38
* * *
Emma
The first thing I registered was warmth. Damien’s arm heavy around my waist, his exhale caressing the back of my shoulder, a feather-light kiss in the still hush of early morning.
The second was my phone vibrating on the nightstand.
Once.
Twice.
Then again.
I blinked the room into focus, reaching blindly until I felt the cool screen against my palm.
It flashed alive.
Jennifer.
Three missed calls. The fourth appeared as I watched.
I answered immediately. “Jen? What’s going on?”
“Emma, you need to turn on Channel Seven. Right now,” she demanded.
“What happened?”
“Just—please. Turn it on. I’ll call you back once you’ve… once you’ve seen it.”
The line went dead.
I was already moving, slipping out from Damien’s arm with the grace of an elephant. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, cold floor biting my feet.
I heard Damien surge toward me, sheets rustling as he crossed the room.
“Em?” he called after me, words rough with sleep. “You okay?”
The vastness of the living room grew colder as I crossed it. Eyes locking on the remote like a sniper.
The headline hit instantly:
ELION INTERNAL DATA LEAK
Confidential Audit Documents Circulating outside Company Servers
A blurred screenshot filled the screen—my audit packet. My formatting. My name on every page.
Damien’s footsteps dragged behind me. “What’s wrong?”
I couldn’t speak.
New banners rolled across the screen:
FALKIRK IN TURMOIL AFTER LEAK OF ELION FINANCIAL DOCUMENTS
EMPLOYEES PANIC OVER POTENTIAL PARTNER’S DWINDLING FUNDS
QUESTIONS RISE ABOUT ELION’S STABILITY
“What the hell,” he muttered, coming to stand beside me.
Then another segment began.
Another headline.
Another blow.
ANALYSTS SPECULATE ON ELION’S VIABILITY
FALKIRK STAFF FEAR RELATIONAL FALLOUT
My stomach dropped.
This wasn’t just a leak.
It was a story. A judgment. A verdict.
I turned to Damien, searching for balance, but found the reflection of my own fear mirrored back at me.
Still his arms slid around me, a hand brushing down my hair.
“It’ll be okay,” he promised, the shake in the words betraying the confidence he tried to project.
“It’s an unfortunate turn of events,” a familiar voice drawled.
The scene cut to a press scrum. Reporters shouting. Cameras flashing. Nathan stood at the center soaking up the attention.
“What will Falkirk do now?” a reporter demanded.
Nathan heaved a practiced sigh. “We’re still assessing the situation with Elion,” he answered, tilting his head with manufactured regret. “But given what’s come to light…”
A beat.
A careful shake of the head.
“Motherfucker,” Damien growled under his breath, the words vibrating with quiet fury.
The dam broke.
Faces flashed across my mind: Jennifer’s tired smile. David pacing during calls. Kevin’s neglected cactus. Sarah’s sticky notes curling at the edges of my monitor.
All of them depending on me.
And now… all of them about to be swallowed by a storm with my name stamped across the header.
The edges of the room faded, shame flooding up my spine like smoke.
Sound turned muffled—distant.
“Emma,” Damien tried. “Stay with me.”
But the ground shifted again—old ghosts slipped from the corners of my mind.
You failed—
“We’re going to get through this,” he murmured, placing a kiss to the top of my head. “Everything will be fine.”
Fine.
Fine—except nothing was.
A dull ache tightened behind my eyes. More voices pressed in. You ruined everything. They’ll blame you. This is on you.
I pressed my palms to my ears, trying—desperate—to silence them before they pulled me under.
But the world kept shrinking.
The TV cut back—Elion’s numbers, my name, Nathan’s face—and something inside me split clean down a worn line.
Sound blurred.
Light sharpened.
Air scattered.
“Emma.” Damien’s plea broke through the static once more, low, urgent. “Look at me.”
I tried.
I couldn’t.
Everything dissolved into grainy static as the voices surged.
Somewhere behind the noise, Damien’s voice changed—no longer gentle. Focused.
“Joseph, it’s Damien.” A clipped pause. “I need you now—yes, now.”
The room tilted again. My knees bent, but Damien caught me, lowering us both to the ground carefully.
“Channel seven,” he barked. “End it.”
Then the reporter’s voice filtered through the room, “We’ll be back with more breaking news right after this quick commercial break.”
The TV snapped to black.
But the silence only magnified the voices. You did this. They’ll lose everything because of you. You don’t come back from this.
Damien’s words broke through again. Fainter. More distant this time. “Phil, I have a job for you.”
Then the world went black.