“They are welcome to it.”
“And if Reginald—”
“Reginald is no longer part of my decisions.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“That company grew during our family’s involvement.”
“That company was carrying weight your family added to it.”
She laughed once, short and sharp.
“You sound just like your father.”
“Thank you.”
It was the first time I had ever seen Delphine fail to find the next line.
I let the quiet sit.
Then I said, “You need to leave my property.”
The phrase felt strange and wonderful in my mouth.
My property.
Not the house Reginald and I bought together. Not the formal dining room where Delphine had inspected my centerpiece. Not a holiday table where I had to balance everyone’s expectations like crystal glasses on a tray.
My rental porch. My threshold. My door.
She looked at me as if she could still summon the old Fiona by sheer disappointment.
“You will regret humiliating this family.”
“I did not humiliate your family,” I said. “I documented what they did at my father’s company.”
That landed.
Her expression hardened, but there was nothing left under it now except fear dressed as pride.
I stepped back.
“Good night, Delphine.”
Then I closed the door.
Not hard.
Not with drama.
Just closed.
I stood on the other side with my hand still on the knob and listened. For a few seconds, I heard only my own breathing. Then her heels moved across the porch. Down the steps. Along the walkway. Her car door opened and shut with more force than necessary, but not enough to give me the satisfaction of calling it a scene.
When the engine faded, my phone buzzed.
My father.
“You okay?” he asked when I answered.
“She came here.”
“I figured she might.”
“You could have warned me.”
“You would have spent the whole drive home worrying.”
I laughed then. A small, tired sound.
“She knows there’s a report.”
“She should.”
“What happens tomorrow?”
“We keep going.”
The next weeks were harder than I expected.
That is the truth I do not like to skip. People enjoy the clean moment, the door closing, the powerful sentence, the face of the person who finally realizes they are not in control. But after that comes Monday morning. After that comes systems that have to be rebuilt one painful piece at a time.
Callaway Steel did not heal just because the wrong people left the building.
Twenty-seven removals left holes everywhere.