“Some of us don’t have time for maternity mood swings during quarterly revisions.”

Blair says it with a smile that’s more blade than grin, and she flips through her marketing report like it’s gospel. Her stilettos tap against the polished floor, and each step sounds sharp and intentionally meant to drill through my skull. Everyone hears the jab, but no one dares call it what it is.

Jennie doesn’t flinch. She exhales slowly and straightens the stack of proposal sheets in front of her.

The boardroom is all glass and chrome. Night presses in from the high-rise windows, and the city lights blink below like tiny irritated eyes. The air...