The room is deadly silent.
Jax’s grip on my hand tightens until it hurts. Preston looks ready to throw a steak knife. Rosa is reaching into her purse.
But I don't need them. I look at Alistair across the table. He nods once.Flatten her.
I stand up.
"Sit down, Maxwell," Mother snaps. "I am speaking."
"You are finished," I say. My voice is the Ice King’s, but powered by the fire Alistair just lit.
I reach into my pocket. I pull out the receipt.
"You didn't fix me, Mother," I say, holding the paper up. "You billed me."
Mother freezes.
"My mother speaks of 'calibration'," I announce to the room. "She speaks of 'specialists'. What she means is that she paid Dr. Aris fifty thousand dollars in 1996 to hide my autism diagnosis so that I would be palatable to the Board."
The Senators gasp.
"She didn't mold me," I continue. "She masked me. She paid for silence. But the warranty has expired."
I look down at Jax.
"I am not broken," I say. "And I am not 'calibrated'. I am autistic. I am a surgeon. And I am marrying the most chaotic man on earth because he likes meunmasked. He likes the glitches. He likes the noise. He doesn't need me to be the Standard. He just needs me to be Max."
I drop the paper on the table. It lands in the butter dish with a softsplat.
"So," I say, picking up my glass. "To the happy couple. And to the end of the NDA."
I drink.
The silence lasts for three seconds.
Then, Alistair York stands up. He begins to clap. It is a slow, rhythmic clap.
"Bravo!" Alistair shouts, his face beaming with pride. "Bravo! That is my son! That is the blood of the parrot!"
Rosa stands up. Preston stands up. Luke stands up.
Mother stands alone. She looks at the paper in the butter. Shelooks at the room turning against her. She looks at me. For the first time in thirty years, she has lost control of the asset.
"You have ruined the toast," she whispers, trembling.
"I fixed it," I correct her.
"I’m going to throw up," Jax announces loudly.
And he does.
He leans over the side of his chair and vomits, with impressive volume, onto Mother’s Chanel shoes.
The room erupts.
"Oh my god!" Mother shrieks, jumping back. "My suede! My vintage suede!"
"Medical emergency!" Rosa shouts, grinning. "The groom is down! And the shoes are a total loss!"
