Then I realized I didn’t need one.
I remembered the napkin hitting the floor.
I remembered three hundred people watching to see whether I would bend down and pick it up.
Most of all, I remembered stepping over it.
That had been the real turning point.
Not the shareholder documents.
Not the board vote.
Not Julian’s face when Mara read my name.
The moment that changed everything was the quiet second when I stopped helping someone else pretend I was smaller than I was.
I folded the dress once and placed it in a donation bag.
Then I walked downstairs without looking back.
