This silence was different. This silence was the sound of the world rearranging itself. Victoria's face drained. Not slowly, all at once, like someone had pulled a plug. The color left her cheeks, her lips, even her hands.
The red nails suddenly looked absurd, bright and sharp, and pointing at nothing. "That's... That's not possible." "It's very possible." Gerald stepped forward and held up a bound document, the Meridian Airways Corporate Charter.
He opened it to the first page. At the bottom in clear black ink, Karen Taylor, founder and majority shareholder. This is the woman you told doesn't belong in first class. Derek Simmons hadn't moved. His gold epaulets caught the overhead light, but they looked different now, smaller, duller, like costume jewelry.
His mouth opened. Nothing came out. Victoria turned to Karen. For the first time in 15 years, she looked directly at her. Not at her clothes, not at her shoes, not at her skin, at her.
And something broke behind Victoria's eyes, a crack, then a flood. "I... I didn't know." Karen looked at her. The same cheekbones, the same platinum hair, the same woman who had signed the statement that ended a 27-year-old flight attendant's career.
"You never do," Karen said. Victoria's mouth moved before her brain caught up. Miss Taylor, I this is a misunderstanding. I was following protocol. The booking system flagged an irregularity and I I was just doing my job.
I was protecting the cabin. I was protecting your airline. Karen didn't look at her. She turned to Gerald. "Badges.
Both of them. Now." Gerald extended his hand toward Victoria. "Your crew badge and access card, please." Victoria's fingers went to the badge clipped to her uniform.
The badge she had worn for 19 years. Atlas Air first, then Meridian. Her name and clean block letters, her employee photo taken when her hair was still brown. She unclipped it slowly, like peeling off a piece of her own skin. She placed it in Gerald's palm.
Gerald turned to the co-pilot. "Derek, same." Derek hadn't spoken since the reveal. His jaw was locked. His gold epaulets, the ones he'd polished every morning for 6 years, suddenly felt like weights on his shoulders.
He unclipped his badge and held it out without making eye contact. Gerald took it. He placed both badges in a clear plastic envelope and handed it to the HR officer behind him. Both of you are suspended immediately. Effective this moment.
You are not to contact any Meridian employees, access any Meridian systems, or enter any Meridian facility until the investigation is complete. A formal notice will be sent to your addresses within 24 hours. "Investigation?" Derek's voice cracked. "For what?"