The conference room buzzed with tension. All eyes were on Lyra as she slipped her phone into her pocket, her face calm despite the storm raging around her.
Colette remained on her knees, tears streaming down her face. The performance was masterful—a mother sacrificing herself for her ungrateful daughter. It might have been moving if Lyra hadn't seen this act countless times before.
"Ms. Moreau," the university dean prompted, breaking the silence. "Do you have anything to say in your defense?"
Lyra folded her hands in her lap. Years of enduring Colette's manipulations had taught her patience. Dorian was coming. All she needed to do was stall.
"I find it interesting," she said softly, "that you've already decided I need to defend myself, when all you've heard is a story with no substantiation."
Owen Barrett cleared his throat. "With all due respect, sir, the video only shows Ms. Blackwood copying files. It doesn't prove what those files contained or where they ended up."
