Fenn makes a low, impressed sound.
“Congratulations,” he mutters.
“I didn’t—” I start.
“—who has demonstrated exceptional strength under pressure,” Brautigaum continues, “both in the arena and in her personal life.”
The footage shifts again.
Me.
Jesse.
Walking into the compound.
Holding it together by sheer force of will.
I feel suddenly exposed.
Like the entire galaxy is looking straight through me.
“—is exactly the kind of individual we are proud to support,” Brautigaum says.
I shake my head slightly.
“This is insane.”
“—which is why,” he continues, pausing just long enough for dramatic effect, “effective immediately, Ms. Robertson will be promoted to a senior administrative position within Brautigaum Plastics, with full benefits, increased compensation, and long-term housing support.”
The room goes quiet.
Around me, people start reacting.
Murmurs.
Whispers.
Someone actually claps.
I just stare at the screen.
“What,” I say faintly.
Fenn laughs.
“Oh, that’s good,” he says. “That’s very good.”
“Is this real?” I ask.
He glances at me.
“Tilda.”
“I’m serious.”
“Yes,” he says. “It’s real.”
Jesse pokes my cheek again.
