Camille did not look away from Raymond. “You may answer.”
Raymond’s hands trembled around his coffee cup. For a moment, he seemed to carry the weight of every shift he had survived by staying quiet. Then he set the cup down.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. “It happens every day.”
The breakroom changed.
Not loudly.
Not all at once.
But something broke open.
A woman from inventory raised her hand like she was back in school. “She called me stupid in front of my whole team because English is my second language.”
Another worker said, “She threatened to cut my hours when I asked about overtime pay.”
Eli lifted his head. “She made me keep working after I told her my wrist was swollen. Said if I could hold a phone, I could hold a scanner.”
One of the assistant leads muttered, “That’s not fair.”
Camille looked at him. “Which part?”
He went silent.
Then more voices came.
Stories spilled across the room faster than anyone could organize them. A pregnant employee had been mocked for needing bathroom breaks. A single father had been assigned the heaviest aisle after requesting one schedule change for his child’s doctor appointment. Complaints had been filed and disappeared. Witnesses had been warned not to “make drama.”
Paul Mercer stood by the doorway, every sentence landing on him like a verdict.
Camille listened to all of it.
She did not interrupt.
She did not ask anyone to calm down.
For years, the people in that room had been forced to swallow their own truth so the warehouse could keep running smoothly. Now their words filled the space Denise had controlled with fear, and fear began losing its shape.
Denise started crying when she realized the room was no longer hers.
“Please,” she said. “I need this job. I have bills. I have a family.”
Camille looked at her for a long moment.
“So do they.”
Denise wiped her face. “I made mistakes.”
“No,” Camille said. “A mistake is misreading a label. A mistake is entering the wrong quantity. What you built here was a pattern.”
Paul cleared his throat. “Camille, if I may—”
“You may not.”
He closed his mouth.
Camille faced Denise fully. “You used your title to humiliate people who needed their paychecks too badly to answer back. You turned work into punishment. You taught your assistants to laugh while others were degraded. And when you thought I was powerless, you treated me exactly how you treat them.”
Denise shook her head. “I can change.”
“You should,” Camille said. “But not here.”
Denise’s eyes widened.
“Denise Ralston, your employment is terminated effective immediately.”
A sound moved through the room, half gasp, half release.