“Do not test me on this, Sarah.”

“You are one phone call away from being an outcast in your own department.”

I looked at my father, hoping for some flicker of protest.

Arthur Mitchell kept his eyes fixed on the rain starting to tap against the windowpane.

He took a slow sip of his water and said nothing.

“Is this what you want too, Dad?” I asked.

“To throw your daughter to the wolves?”

He cleared his throat but did not look at me.

“Your mother is right about the family reputation, Sarah,” he said.

“We must present a united front.”

“Even if it is built on a lie,” I said.

“It is not a lie if you accept the position,” Derek muttered from the corner.

“It is a real position, Sarah.”

“I would actually value your advice.”

“You do not want my advice, Derek,” I said, turning to him.

“You want my credibility to greenwash your fossil fuel investments.”

“That is enough,” Helen barked.

She snatched the tablet from my hand and shoved it toward Priya.

“Send the confirmation,” Helen ordered my assistant.