The conference room fell silent. Dorian Cross's question hung in the air like a blade, poised to drop. Lyra fought to keep her expression neutral as all eyes turned to her mother.
Colette's mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. Her theatrical confidence from moments before had evaporated completely.
Orla stepped forward, her designer heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. "This is ridiculous. I received that proposal directly from Dr. Payne."
Dorian raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? You've personally spoken with Dr. Payne?"
"Well, not personally," Orla backtracked quickly. "But through proper channels."
"And what channels would those be?" Dorian asked, his voice deceptively calm.
Orla's eyes darted around the room, seeking support. "Email correspondence. Professional exchanges."
"Fascinating." Dorian turned to address the room. "Dr. Payne has never corresponded with Orla Moreau. Not once."
