Just as I got back home, Sharon’s secretary called and said she was having an asthma attack and needed my help.
I hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the divorce papers I printed last night along with the medicine bottle and headed for the banquet hall.
As soon as I walked in, I saw Sharon—who was supposedly sick—clinking glasses with others, smiling and laughing. She linked her arm with a man whom I hadn’t seen in ages—Elroy.
The moment Sharon saw me, a flicker of panic flashed through her eyes. She quickly walked over.
“Dean, don’t get the wrong idea. The hotel medics just came and gave me my medication,” she explained, flustered.
“Sorry for worrying you, I swear it won’t happen agai—”
“It’s fine,” I said, before she could finish her excuse. I walked past her and tossed the bottle of medicine into a nearby trash bin. Then, I pulled out the divorce papers I’d printed the night before and handed them to her.
“The property manager said the HVAC cleaning requires the owner's signature.”
Sharon froze for half a second. Then, without reading a single word, she grabbed a pen and signed the papers.
Once I had her signature, I turned around and walked off without another word. But Elroy called and approached me with that fake-friendly attitude of his.
“Long time no see, brother,” he greeted.
“Why the rush? Did you know we’re throwing a huge party today to celebrate the company going public? You’re already here—why not stick around and celebrate with us?”
I had zero interest in entertaining him.
“Besides,” he added casually, “isn’t this company Aunt Ruth’s life’s work?”
His words stopped me cold.
This company… it was the only thing my late mother left behind. If it hadn’t been for that accident five years ago, I would have been the one hosting this party tonight.
A sharp pain twisted in my chest. But somehow, I let the staff usher me to a seat—front and center, right in the spotlight.
The celebration started soon after. Elroy took the stage, dressed in a bespoke navy suit, Sharon clinging to his arm like a prize.
“Let’s raise a glass to Amoura’s successful IPO,” he announced, lifting the mic with that same smarmy smile. “And now, let’s take a walk down memory lane with a video honoring our ten-year journey.”
The room dimmed and the giant LED screens lit up.
Then came my scream.