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"I need you to leave this meeting, Amanda." My uncle's voice cut through the boardroom like a knife. Twenty pairs of eyes turned to stare at me, some with pity, others carefully avoiding my gaze. He didn't even have the decency to lower his voice as he continued, "These discussions are for essential personnel only." Essential personnel. Three years as the company's top-performing director of operations, and suddenly I wasn't "essential." I glanced down at the financial reports clutched in my hands—the ones showing exactly how much trouble Hartwell Industries was really in. The ones I'd stayed up until 3 AM perfecting. The ones that contained the restructuring plan that could actually save the family business. "But Uncle Richard, I've prepared the quarterly—" "That won't be necessary," he interrupted, his smile not reaching his eyes. "We have enough people at the table. Perhaps you could get us some coffee while you wait?" Get them coffee. Like I was an intern instead of the person who'd doubled their manufacturing efficiency in the last year. Like I hadn't graduated top of my class from Wharton while my cousin—Uncle Richard's son—had barely scraped through community college before being handed a vice president title. I felt the blood rush to my face as I gathered my materials with steady hands. Pride kept my back straight as I walked toward the door, feeling their stares burning into me. Nobody spoke up. Not even my father's oldest friend, Martin, who knew exactly how hard I'd worked. Not even my cousin Kate, who had texted me just last night about how excited she was to hear my presentation. As the heavy door closed behind me, I allowed myself one deep, shuddering breath. Then I straightened my blazer, squared my shoulders, and walked calmly to my office. They had no idea who they'd just dismissed.