Nicole reached for the power cord. Brandon stopped her with a raised hand.
“If you think this is inaccurate, give your statement. Don’t touch the equipment.”
“You’re turning a family matter into a spectacle,” she said.
Nina glanced toward the guests holding up phones. “You did that when you hit me.”
The words came out quieter than she expected. Their effect on Nicole was worse than a shout.
Brandon selected the pre-show recording. At first there were only stage directions: a request for fresh water, a check on the backstage doors, someone testing a microphone. Then Nicole’s voice sounded through the tablet.
“Put Nina Donovan at the west service station. She’ll recognize the old register.”
Nina went still.
Nicole had asked for her by name before she had even reached the theater.
Another voice asked whether the station should be reassigned. Nicole replied, “No. Give her a reason to challenge me in front of the guests. Once she does, she’s out. An angry former employee isn’t a credible witness.”
Nina looked at the hand Nicole had used to strike her. What she had mistaken for a burst of temper now had the outlines of a rehearsal. Nicole had wanted a public dispute. She had counted on Nina becoming angry enough to be dismissed before anyone considered the figures.
Nina hadn’t reacted as Nicole expected. That explained her fear.
Sebastian stared at the floor.
Brandon stopped playback. “This is why we’ll preserve everything,” he said. “But Nina, you need to decide what to do with your complaint. I can’t make that choice for you.”
Nicole recovered first. “If she files anything, she’s finished in this industry.”
There it was: a promise of consequences, delivered in the same room where Nicole had claimed to be defending her family.
Nina thought of the workers whose names she had just seen. Her own shifts were seven lines among hundreds. If she walked out with nothing but a story, someone else would be asked to wait until Monday.
She asked Brandon to attach her written account to the preserved records. She signed her name and authorized the verified copies of her own schedule, the disputed acknowledgments, the programs, and the relevant event files to be forwarded to the foundation’s independent trustees and the state labor authorities. She would not post other workers’ private records online.
When she submitted the complaint, the tablet chimed once.
Nicole zog ihren Mitarbeiterausweis von Ninas Uniform. Die Nadel kratzte am Stoff.
„Du arbeitest nicht mehr für meine Veranstaltungen.“
Nina zuckte vor dem Stich zusammen, griff aber nicht nach dem Abzeichen. Sieben unbezahlte Schichten waren es gewesen, und nun verschwand mit einer einzigen Bewegung die Aussicht auf jede weitere Schicht.
Brandon fügte die Entlassung stillschweigend seinem Vorfallsbericht hinzu.
Sebastian ergriff schließlich das Wort. „Nicole, das kannst du ihr nicht antun.“
„Du hast zugesehen, wie sie versucht hat, uns zu ruinieren“, sagte Nicole. „Und du machst dir Sorgen um eine Dienstmarke?“
Er öffnete den Mund, schloss ihn dann aber wieder. Nina kannte diese Stille. Sie hatte sie jedes Mal erlebt, wenn ihn jemand von der Crew fragte, wann die Schecks eintreffen würden.
Brandon schaltete die Aufnahme wieder ein. „Es sind noch ein paar Sekunden.“
Im Audio war Sebastians Stimme zu hören, tiefer als Nicoles, aber unverkennbar.
„Haltet Nina vom Hauptregister fern. Nicht heute Abend. Nicht bevor wir die Spenden gesammelt haben.“
Nina konnte ihn nicht länger als den Mann ansehen, der von der Ohrfeige überrascht gewesen war. Er hatte gewusst, dass sie etwas finden könnte, das es wert war, verheimlicht zu werden.
Und er hatte den Zeitpunkt gewählt, an dem sie es sehen durfte.
