“I doubt even a miracle worker could save it now.”
“That little secretary really doesn’t know her place.”
“Well, this is great news. Our company’s main piece just got a better shot.”
Niamh spun around and yelled at the crowd, “No! There has to be a way! There has to be!”
They were happy that Charlene’s design was ruined because it meant one less competitor. These people were despicable. Not only would they not help, but they kicked her while she was down.
Just then, another wave of whispers started.
“Wow, I can’t believe Charlene is a homewrecker.”
“How disgusting.”
“She deserved it!”
“I’m not,” Charlene rasped, gripping Niamh’s hand tighter, her voice firm despite the pain. “They framed me. They did this so my design couldn't make it to the runway. Niamh, you have to believe me.”
“I believe you, Charlene,” Niamh said softly. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure something out.”
At that moment, the paramedics arrived and tried to take Charlene away, but she refused to go.
“Charlene, leave this to me,” Niamh said with sudden resolve. “I’ll handle it.”
“You’ll handle it?” Charlene stared at her in disbelief.
“Yes. Leave it to me.”
“But—”
Niamh turned to the paramedics. “Take her.”
Charlene wanted to protest, but before she could say another word, she lost consciousness.


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