Patricia was not finished.
“And the bracelet too,” she said abruptly.
Several people blinked. “What?” Luis asked.
“That bracelet. Company policy. Staff can’t leave with property that might belong to the premises.”
A murmur passed through the hallway. That was nonsense and everyone knew it. But Patricia had felt the room beginning to shift, sympathy creeping where fear should have stayed, so she reached for something extra. Power hates losing its audience.
Doña Elena instinctively covered her right wrist with her left hand.
“This is mine.”
Patricia’s smile was cold and slight. “Then you won’t mind showing it.”
For the first time that morning, something changed in Elena’s face.
It was small. If you were not looking carefully, you might have missed it. But the woman who had accepted public blame, public shame, and public dismissal without raising her voice suddenly went still in a different way. Not defeated. Guarded. Like someone hearing a footstep from an old nightmare.
