same office where he had dismissed me the previous Friday.
His desk was covered with folders. Two phones sat beside his laptop, and a half-finished cup of coffee had gone cold near his elbow.
He looked exhausted.
“Eleanor,” he began, “I owe you an apology.”
I waited.
“I made a mistake.”
“Yes,” I said. “You did.”
He glanced down.
“I thought the new model would be enough. Madison was confident, and the projected savings were significant.”
“Did you review the risks I documented?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I received the
