Mr. Adams let out a heavy sigh. “Ms. George, it’s easy for you to walk away. But look at the staff still here; every single one of them is sitting in this room trying to fix this mess. If we can’t, the higher-ups will absolutely hold us responsible. There’s a good chance they’ll fire all of us. You’ll be fine—you have other income. But for these people, you know what this job means. Most of them have families—kids, parents to support. Lose this, and what will they do?”
He clasped his hands together, as if in prayer. “Ms. George, I’m begging you, for the sake of these employees—please, talk to Emily Blair. Ask her to apologize. It’s just an apology. It won’t cost her anything; not even a hair out of place. Just a few words, a little bit of humility, and that’s all. If she does that, everyone can breathe easy.”
“And think about Emily herself. The internet is still tearing her apart. We all see it. If she apologizes, Isabella Austin’s fans will back off, the insults will stop. Ms. George, think about it—those people are already calling our office nonstop. You can imagine how many more are harassing Emily. If she apologizes, everyone’s happy. There’s no point arguing about who copied whom at a time like this.”
“This is just how the world works,” Mr. Adams said, voice weary. “Andrew Lane and Isabella Austin have the power. The rest of us—we’re powerless.” He rubbed his temple, looking defeated. “Ms. George, please, I’m begging you—for myself, for all of us. Have mercy. I’ve got a mortgage—almost two thousand dollars a month. Car payments. My kid goes to a private school, and the tuition is sky-high. I’ve got a whole family to feed. I can’t afford to lose this job.”
He bowed his head. “Please, you know Emily Blair. Please, persuade her to apologize. I’m begging you—for the sake of my whole family.”
Arianna George was silent. Around the table, the other employees chimed in, voices shaky with desperation.
“Yeah, Ms. George, my parents are both still in the hospital. Every day, the bills eat up most of my paycheck. Our savings are nearly gone. If I lose this job, I’ll have to sell my car and my apartment just to pay their medical fees.”
“Ms. George, I’m this close to making the down payment on a house. If I can just manage it, I can marry my girlfriend next year. If not…who knows how long we’ll have to wait.”


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