I Don’t Read Between The Lines, I Only Tell The Truth Outright Chapter 05

I Don’t Read Between The Lines, I Only Tell The Truth Outright Chapter 05

I didn’t look back.

I walked out the front gate and took a car to the office, where Angela was already waiting in a conference

room. She did a double-take at the suitcase.

“You actually moved out?”

“I did.”

“All right. There’s an open room in the company apartment. Take it, and we’ll pull the rent out of your paycheck.” She slid the paperwork over. “Address confirmation. Sign here.”

I signed it, and the whole thing took under five minutes.

Angela looked at my suitcase again. “Your family didn’t have a problem with this?”

“They did.”

“And you left anyway?”

“Their opinions don’t solve anything for me.”

She gave me a thumbs-up. “You’ve still got a spine on you.”

My phone rang. It was my father, and I answered.

“Nora, come back right now and I’ll pretend none of this happened.”

“It happened.”

“Do you have to argue over a few words?”

“It isn’t a few words.” I looked at the form on the table. “My records are registered at my company’s address.”

The line went quiet for a few seconds. “You did what?”

“The paperwork is done.”

“Who gave you permission?”

“They’re my records. Whose permission do I need?”

His breathing got heavy. “Fine. You think you can stand on your own now?”

“I’ve been standing on my own for six years.”

“Then don’t spend another dollar of Weston money.”

“All right.”

I hung up.

Under a minute later, a text came in from the bank. The authorized-user card ending in 6688 had been

deactivated.

I stared at the message for a few seconds before I remembered that my mother had pushed that card into my hand three years ago. It had sat in a drawer ever since, and I had never even opened the envelope with the

PIN in it.

A message came into the family chat from Eli.

Eli: [Dad shut off your card. Do you see what your little tantrum costs yet?]

I took a photo of the card and a screenshot of the statement, which showed not one charge in three years. I

posted both in the family chat.

Nora: [What is the cost, exactly?]

Eli didn’t answer, and neither did my father.

30 minutes later, Adrian sent one line.

Adrian: [Don’t do this out of spite. The family isn’t giving up on you.]

Nora: [Which action proves that?]

The typing indicator came on. It stayed on for a long time and then went away.

That night, I moved into the company apartment. The room was small, but the closet was empty, and the

sheets were new.

My name was taped to the door because Angela had printed it, so I wouldn’t walk into the wrong room.

I stood in the doorway and looked at it for a long time. One piece of paper with the right name on it was enough to make a room feel like mine.

I had barely finished unpacking when my boss called. “Nora, the head of risk management resigned. You’re

taking it.”

“Temporarily?”

“Permanently.”

“Why me?”

“You blew the whistle on Diane’s kickbacks and made enemies out of half the floor.”

“That’s a reason?”

“It is.” He laughed. “People who say the thing out loud and still keep the books clean are hard to find.”

The next day, the announcement of my promotion went out to the whole company, and the new project

assignments came out at the same time.

I opened the file, and there was one name in the client column.

It was the Weston Group.

The lead on the account was Nora Weston.

I called my boss. “I’m related to the client on this one.”

“I know.”

“Then why am I on it?”

“The client asked for you.”

I looked at the screen. “Who asked?”

“The chairman of the Weston Group.”

That was my father.