Chapter 10: Town Hall

On Monday morning, three hundred people filled the auditorium on the thirtieth floor for the quarterly meeting.

Kat and I sat in the fifth row, and everyone near us found something to look at on their phones.

By then half of them had seen the video.

Cory's version of my "Not yet" had been shared six hundred times.

The chief executive stood at the podium, a gray-haired woman in a navy suit, and read out the quarter's numbers.

Then she introduced the sales segment.

Cory walked onto the stage in his best suit, with a clicker in his hand.

He looked pale, but he had the smile he used on clients.

"Before I start, I want to say a personal word," he said.

The room went quiet.

"Some of you know I've been going through a hard time at home," he said.

"I'm not going to say much. I just want you to know I've been carrying it, and I'm grateful for your patience."

A woman behind me murmured, "Oh, that poor man."

My hands went tight on the armrests.

On the screen behind Cory, the slide changed, and it was not a sales chart.

It was the video.

It had been paused on a frame of my face, mid-word, lit by the truck's headlights.

"This is what I've dealt with," Cory said gently.

"I'm sharing it because I think people deserve context. I love her, and I'm worried about her, and I'd ask you all to be kind."

Kat leaned toward my ear.

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