I was three minutes late for the train. My fiancé knew I was twelve weeks pregnant and had booked a window seat because the nausea had been brutal—but when I boarded, his new intern was sitting there with his blazer over her shoulders. “Sit in the back,” he told me. “She needs it more.” I got off before departure and canceled our wedding. He still thought I’d be waiting for him in Boston.

PART 2

For months, Maya had been everywhere.

At first, I did not care.

Interns rotated through our department constantly.

Scott Global employed more than six thousand people.

Our strategy division alone had nearly two hundred.

Maya was smart.

Ambitious.

Prepared.

I respected that.

Ethan seemed impressed too.

Too impressed.

He started adding her to meetings she did not need to attend.

Then lunches.

Then late-night planning sessions.

Then client calls.

Whenever I questioned it, Ethan smiled.

“You’re imagining things.”

Or.

“She needs mentorship.”

Or.

“You should be supportive of young women trying to succeed.”

That one always worked.

It made me feel petty.

Jealous.

Small.

So I stopped asking.

Then Maya started texting him at night.

Nothing obviously inappropriate.

At least not at first.

Questions about decks.

Presentations.

Travel.

Career advice.

Then one evening, I saw a message pop up while Ethan was showering.

You always know exactly how to calm me down.

There was a heart beneath it.

I asked him about it.

He laughed.

“She had a panic attack before the investor call.”

“You’re threatened by an intern now?”

I apologized.

I actually apologized.

That memory came back while I stood in the train aisle.

The departure announcement sounded overhead.

Ethan pointed toward the back.

“Claire.”

“Sit down.”

“We’ll discuss your mood in Boston.”