While Mara waited, Mr. Patel returned with a cooler smile and a firmer deadline. “We need your signature before the toast, Miss Wittman,” he said. “If you refuse, we’ll need to respond formally.” He let the word litigation hang in the air like a warning.
Mara smiled politely and asked for water, buying time. She watched Ethan onstage, ready for his toast with a relaxed grin. He looked proud. He looked unaware that his own foundation was shifting under him.