Chapter Text
Monday, 1st December: 6:30 a.m.
Marnie knew something was wrong when her bedroom door didn’t open at 6:15 as it usually did. She already knew today wouldn’t be like any other. Her mother had promised to take her to school. Normally, it was Grandma Anna who took care of that. She would come and wake her up, help her get dressed, have breakfast, go over her lessons with her one last time, before accompanying her to St Catherine’s Primary School with Dexter, their driver. One of the perks of being a Cavendish, Marnie supposed. Most of her classmates were dropped off by staff as well — never by parents, never by family.
That was why today wasn’t an ordinary day.
The sky was still dark when Marnie left her bedroom. She had already made sure to put on her perfectly ironed uniform — an exceptional thing, considering how Anna usually had to battle with her to get her ready on time. But Marnie didn’t want to disappoint her mother. Not today.
Her steps led her to the master bedroom. She could hear her mother’s familiar alarm ringing and guessed it had been going off for several minutes now. Usually, just the intro to The Great Gig in the Sky was enough to pull Diana out of bed, but for some unknown reason, she still seemed fast asleep. Marnie gently opened the door. The strip of light from the corridor faintly illuminated the huge bed where her mother’s shape lay.
“Mummy?”
No answer. Marnie stepped closer, quietly — which rather contradicted her goal of waking her mother. The nearer she got, the more she could make things out. Files scattered all over the duvet, a laptop open on Diana’s lap as she slept half-upright, medical reports covering her more than the blanket itself. She must have worked late again…
“Mummy…” Marnie whispered, shaking her gently. There had been a time when she would have climbed into the bed to wake Diana with a cuddle. But now, she stayed close to the edge — just close enough to shake her. Climbing in? She didn’t do that anymore.
Diana grumbled and turned in her sleep. Marnie squeaked when she saw the laptop wobble, catching it just in time before it hit the floor. She knew that if it broke, her mother would go mad at losing all the unfinished reports she was working on…
Marnie sighed in relief before returning to her original mission. She shook Diana again, until she felt her mother starting to surface. Diana turned once more, her eyes still foggy, frowning slightly. She looked Marnie up and down before her attention finally landed on her phone and the time, the alarm starting up again for the second round.
“Marnie?” she finally said. “What are you doing in here? Is something wrong with Anna?”
Marnie’s shoulders tensed. Of course. Her mother had forgotten… “You… you promised you’d wake me up today and take me to school…”
Diana sat upright in bed, and Marnie could practically see the gears spinning in her head before her eyes widened. “School — oh my God, Marnie, I forgot—” Diana stammered as she jumped out of bed. Marnie stepped back slightly but nodded and handed her a few reports that had fallen to the floor. Diana grabbed them quickly, piling them onto her bedside table before rushing towards her dresser.
“It’s fine. You’ve been busy,” Marnie murmured, like she always did. Her mother’s work took up all of her time. Not everyone was the CEO of Cavendish Medical Group, after all — a whole universe her mother described as a ‘medical diagnostics and research group’. Marnie didn’t really understand what her mother did, other than managing paperwork for things that helped hospitals. Like laboratories. All she knew was that it was a family business that would one day be hers. A whole company created by her great-great-grandmother Beatrix. Marnie wasn’t thrilled by the idea. At six years old, all she wanted was to be a vet. Or an astronaut. Maybe even a singer. Not… stuck behind a desk. The worst part? Marnie knew that Diana herself hadn’t dreamed of this either, once upon a time. But her MBBS from Dundee had ended up tucked away, replaced by an MBA from London Business School.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” Diana murmured as she pulled on a shirt. With her free hand, she grabbed her phone and started scrolling through the emails she hadn’t been able to read the night before. Funding, relocation, more funding, sponsors, and so on… It wasn’t even seven in the morning yet, and Diana already felt like the day was racing ahead.
“As usual…” Marnie breathed. She realised too late that she’d said it out loud. She apologised immediately. Diana froze, then lowered her phone. She ran a hand over her face before crouching down to her daughter’s level.
“I’m sorry, angel. Truly…” Diana cupped Marnie’s cheek. “I never wanted my problems to weigh on you like this.”
“I know.” Marnie forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her ears. Her fingers fidgeted together — the same anxious habit Diana had.
“You know what? On Friday, I’ll pick you up after school. Ice cream, then the cinema. What do you think?”
Marnie’s eyes filled with stars. A bright smile lit up her face as she clapped her hands together. “Oh yes! Just you and me?”
“Just the two of us. No one else.”
“No phone?”
Diana grimaced at being called out so directly, but held out her little finger. “No phone. No emails. Nothing.”
Marnie threw herself into her arms, her body trembling with excitement. “Let’s do it, yes! I can’t wait! I really can’t wait!”
Diana chuckled softly before noticing the time on her watch. “Shite, we’re going to be late — Marnie, don’t repeat Mummy’s swear words.”
“That’s one thing I can’t promise!”
Diana groaned, rolling her eyes, before lifting her daughter into her arms. Marnie giggled with delight as her mother raced down the manor’s staircase. The staff stared at them oddly as Diana muttered hurried greetings and Marnie waved with a small smile. Her blonde curls, mirroring her mother’s, bounced with every step as her blue eyes shone with happiness.
“Lady Cavendish,” Anna greeted with a polite nod. “I’m delighted to see your timing is perfectly under control and that you are more than capable of being punctual…” She took a sip of her tea, though Diana could spot the slight, irritated crease between her brows. Diana knew better than anyone that Anna played the part of the perfect housekeeper in front of Daryl — who was seated at the other end of the table, having her own breakfast — but that in private, Anna would have told her exactly what she thought. Anna had worked at the manor since before Diana’s own birth and had raised her far more than Daryl ever had after Bernadette’s death. It was only natural, then, that she had earned the title of grandmother for Marnie.
“Grandma!” Marnie chirped before running into her arms. She climbed onto the old housekeeper’s lap as her breakfast was brought over.
Diana took a seat at the table near her aunt. Her phone lit up on her inbox just as a steaming plate was set in front of her — a plate Diana ignored in favour of the replies she needed to send.
“Busy day?” Daryl asked, dabbing at her lips slowly. Diana and she had never had the best relationship, but things had improved between them when Norton, Diana’s ex-husband, had asked for a divorce during Marnie’s pregnancy. Daryl had likely seen herself in Diana, having been abandoned herself with two-year-old twins in her arms.
Diana merely replied with a grunt. “I’m taking Marnie to school today.”
“Is Dexter on strike again?”
“No, no. I promised Marnie I’d take care of it — though, honestly, I don’t remember when I made that promise…” She muttered the last part under her breath. Diana lifted a piece of toast towards her lips. The smell of butter almost pulled her back into the moment, until another email caught her attention. She set the toast back on her plate, sadly forgotten. Her teacup served as a stand for her phone as her jaw tightened. She barely registered what her aunt was saying until Daryl noticed.
“Are you actually invested in this conversation,” Daryl asked with a frustrated smile as she folded her napkin, “or are you just speaking into the void, hoping your words reach me while mine are miraculously recorded by your brain?”
“I’m listening, don’t worry,” Diana replied, though her finger never stopped moving. “I just—” She paused, frowned, and scrolled back a little. “My meeting with Zurich has been moved to nine. I need to call them to discuss the imaging contract. They’ve changed the compliance wording again.”
Daryl raised an eyebrow. “Nine? But Marnie’s classes start at eight forty-five, don’t they?”
“Yes, I’ll have to drop her off early, but I need to make that call,” Diana answered automatically. “They’re two hours ahead, after all. If I don’t do it now, I won’t get hold of them all day.” She finally set her phone down, took a sip of her tea, and set it aside again without really tasting it. “I’ve got the Zurich call at nine, then finance at ten-thirty. There’s a board briefing at eleven I need to sign off on, and Hannah’s booked me in for a call with the ethics committee before lunch because someone flagged the new selection rollout as ‘commercially aggressive’.”
Daryl watched her in silence. She glanced over at Marnie, who was animatedly telling Anna something. “Is it, though?”
Diana hesitated. “It’s necessary,” she said instead. “If we don’t move now, three hospitals will pull out. That delays early detection by at least six months.”
“And if you don’t sign?”
“Someone else will,” Diana replied quickly, irritated by the very idea. “And they won’t be as careful as we are.” Her phone buzzed. She glanced at it before burying her face in her hands. “Berlin wants to renegotiate staffing costs. Again.”
Daryl sighed and took the phone from Diana’s hands, pushing her niece’s plate closer to her. “And where does your daughter fit into all this?”
“Friday after school,” Diana replied immediately, reaching for her phone.
“Before you start thinking about Friday, try making sure your daughter isn’t late for class.”
Diana blinked and jolted when the clock chimed half past seven. She yelped, shoved half her toast into her mouth, washed it down with a few burning gulps of tea, and hurried away from the table. “Marnie, we need to go!” she called out, rushing urgently towards her bedroom. Marnie pouted but followed her all the same.
“But if we leave now, I’ll arrive at eight and I’ll have to wait ages in the study room…”
“I’m sorry, but I need to be at the office by nine, so…” Diana offered her an awkward smile as she knotted her tie. Marnie slung her schoolbag over her shoulders with a grumble but didn’t say anything else. Diana grabbed her laptop and documents, did her best to stack them neatly, and almost ran to the door, ignoring the migraine already beginning to bloom.
The first part of the drive passed in silence. One advantage of living in a manor on the outskirts of Edinburgh was how quiet the roads were. Diana could drive without the stress of traffic jams, almost forgetting all the work that would be demanded of her today. But it all came rushing back when she stopped at a red light. One hand on the steering wheel, she used the other to glance at her messages and emails. More meetings. More calls. Even less time to—
“Mummy! Phone while driving!” Marnie pointed out from the back seat. “And the light’s green!”
“Oh— yes, that’s right. Thank you, sweetheart…” Diana murmured, tensing as someone honked behind her. She forced herself to place the phone face-down in the cup holder.
Outside, Edinburgh had slipped into Christmas mode.
Garlands were strung between lampposts, gold blending into the grey of the morning, and every shop window seemed determined to win some sort of decorating contest — lights, baubles, fake snow scenes pressed against the glass. Even with the windows closed, Diana could hear someone playing a Christmas classic on the bagpipes. The tourists must have been thrilled…
“Oh, Mummy!” Marnie pressed her face to the window. “They’ve put the stars up! Look!”
“I can see,” Diana replied. “They put them up every year.”
Marnie didn’t seem to react to that. Her eyes reflected the city lights. “Yes, but they put them up early this year! That means it’s coming soon!”
“Christmas, I know,” Diana continued, her tone neutral and tired.
Marnie nodded eagerly. “That means the advent calendar starts today! Oh no, I forgot to eat my chocolate this morning!”
Diana nodded, focusing on the road. She turned on the radio, which crackled for a few seconds before something cheerful burst into the car. Diana startled, nearly swerving into a post, before sighing and switching it off again.
“Mummy,” Marnie said gently. “That was one of the good Christmas songs.”
“I know,” Diana replied without taking her eyes off the road. “That’s why I turned it off.”
Marnie frowned, thinking for a moment. “But I like it,” she finally said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I know you do.”
“Then why did you turn it off?”
Diana didn’t answer. Her hands tightened around the steering wheel as she drew in a slow breath.
They stopped at a pedestrian crossing. A man wearing a Christmas hat waved enthusiastically as he crossed. Marnie waved back, and the man smiled far too broadly for such an early hour. Diana simply looked away.
“Everything is just so… loud,” she murmured, more to herself than to Marnie. “And expensive. And stressful. No one really enjoys this commercial holiday. We just force ourselves to celebrate because it would look bad not to.”
Marnie turned towards her, confused. “I really like Christmas.”
“I know you do,” Diana repeated, more softly this time.
St Catherine’s Primary School finally came into view at the end of the street. A large Christmas tree stood in the middle of the playground, paper snowflakes were stuck to the windows, and strings of fairy lights had been wrapped around the railings. Excited, Marnie couldn’t stop wriggling in her car seat. Diana pulled into the drop-off zone and Marnie unbuckled herself.
“Mummy, Mummy, look! Everything’s decorated!” Marnie pointed, and Diana nodded after a quick glance at her watch. “Do you think we’ll have snow on the twenty-fifth? I hope so! We’d have loads of space on the estate to make snowmen! Oh, we could even go to the cemetery and make one on Grandma Bernadette’s grave—”
“I don’t think there’ll be snow, Marnie,” Diana cut in. She felt her heart tighten in her chest, and her voice came out colder than she intended. Marnie slowly sat back down as Diana rubbed her face, exhausted. “With climate change, it’s rare to get several days of snow in Edinburgh. We’d have better luck in the Highlands, but we live too far away to really enjoy it.”
Marnie smiled anyway, as if the answer didn’t matter. “There’s always a chance. Anyway, I’m going. See you tonight, love you!”
The car door slammed shut behind her. Diana watched her run — so small, yet so bright against the pale December fog — and felt her jaw tighten once more as her heart skipped a beat.
Monday, 1st December: 9:07 a.m.
Open.
Up.
Open again.
Up again.
Diana could predict to the second when the lift doors would open. When the voice would announce the floor. After five years working in the Quartermile district, Diana knew the building’s rhythm by heart.
The lift stopped six floors before hers, letting people she didn’t know in and out, from companies she cared very little about.
Law firms from the 3rd to the 7th floor.
A bank’s headquarters from the 8th to the 12th.
Consultancy firms above the 18th…
And finally, Cavendish Medical Group, from the 13th to the 18th floor.
The lift doors finally slid open to reveal noise.
Just noise.
Phones ringing everywhere, heels striking marble at a near run, voices cutting into one another and overlapping despite the glass partitions between offices. Someone was laughing far too loudly to her left near the printer; someone else was already arguing on a call. The smell of coffee hung thick in the air, mixed with what seemed like cleaning products.
Diana stepped out without slowing. She tapped her badge, clenched her teeth when the machine flashed an error, tried again, then pressed it harder against the reader until it finally beeped. Her face appeared on the screen and she looked away, phone already in hand.
“—yes, I’ve just arrived,” she said, dodging a colleague who was practically running past her. “No, I’ve seen the figures, but that’s not what concerns me.”
She didn’t even look up when Hannah fell into step beside her, tablet tucked under her arm, posture immaculate.
“You’re seven minutes late,” Hannah murmured with a restrained growl, before immediately slipping back into her pleasant-employee expression.
“I know,” Diana sighed. “I had to drop Marnie off at school—”
“—which was not on the schedule,” Hannah cut in, never breaking her smile as a colleague passed them. “Meaning Zurich has been waiting since nine o’clock sharp.”
Diana’s eyebrow twitched — almost imperceptibly to anyone else. They reached the office, and Hannah opened the door before pressing a headset into the blonde’s chest.
“I’ll take over,” Diana said quickly into the headset as she moved into position. Hannah pushed a stack of folders forward while Diana opened her laptop.
“You have one hour before finance,” Hannah continued briskly. “One hour and twelve minutes if you skip the coffee you were never going to drink anyway.”
Diana blinked as if waking up and looked at Hannah. Her gaze drifted to the large bay window overlooking the Meadows further down the street. “One hour twelve…” she repeated.
“In the best-case scenario, yes.”
Diana opened her mouth to reply, but the call connected in her ear. She lifted a finger towards Hannah in apology — a reflex — and turned slightly in her chair.
“Good morning,” Diana said, her voice shifting seamlessly into work mode. “Thank you for waiting.”
Hannah watched her in silence, lips pressed together, expression unreadable, before placing the tablet on the desk and presenting a chart.
“I moved the ethics committee to after lunch,” she murmured, just loud enough to be heard between voices on the call. “Your meetings were overlapping. Again.”
Diana nodded — something that could pass for a thank you — and focused on her screen. Hannah’s lips curved into something that might have been a smile.
When the call finally ended, Diana exhaled, her entire body loosening. She dropped her head into her arms and rubbed the back of her neck.
Hannah’s voice softened for a brief second. “You forgot your lunch.”
Diana lifted her head slightly. “Did I?”
“Yes,” Hannah replied. “You also forgot that you promised yourself you’d stop doing this.”
Diana attempted a laugh, but stopped under Hannah’s stare. She straightened, tugged at her jacket, and glanced at her schedule. ““I’ll manage.”
Hannah folded her arms, professionalism intact, irritation slipping through. “You’re running on caffeine and sprinting across dynamite,” she muttered. “It’s going to blow. Christmas doesn’t help.”
“It would be nice if it did,” Diana said, picking up the next file without looking at it.
Hannah watched her for a few seconds. Best friend. Assistant. Aunt to her daughter. All of it flickered across her face before she squared her shoulders again. “Finance in five minutes. Try not to disappear before then.” She turned on her heel, then paused at the door. “Diana?”
“Hm?”
“Autopilot isn’t the same as functioning,” she said calmly — concern buried beneath a controlled façade.
And with that, she was gone. The door closed, cutting Diana off from the noise. Diana stared at it for a long moment before reaching for her phone again.
“Cavendish Medical Group, this is Diana Cavendish speaking…”
Friday, 7th December: 6:45 p.m.
Friday evenings were meant to be when everything slowed down. The weekend approached. Work was done. Rest was earned.
It never worked that way for Diana.
The lights in the conference room were still far too bright for nearly seven o’clock, reflecting off the glass and marble floor, clashing with the city’s decorations outside as people lived their lives. Diana sat at the head of the table, coat folded over the back of her chair, sleeves rolled up, pen abandoned somewhere near her notebook.
Someone was speaking. She could no longer remember who.
“…and if we stagger the rollout, we mitigate the optics while maintaining—”
Diana nodded automatically, eyes fixed on an invisible point just above the speaker’s shoulder. Her head throbbed dully — the kind of migraine born from skipped breaks and an overload of thoughts. Her hands had gone cold hours ago. She couldn’t remember exactly when. Her phone lay right beside her notebook. She hadn’t touched it since the meeting began.
“We’ve already gone past the scheduled end,” someone else said apologetically, without stopping. “But there’s one more thing—”
Of course there was one more thing.
Diana shifted in her chair to stretch her back as a flash of irritation passed through her — swallowed just as quickly. She always swallowed everything.
“Yes, of course,” she said in a neutral voice. “Please, go ahead.”
She meant it. A leader who listened. In control. And yet, something inside her quietly withered.
The conversation went round in circles. Figures, contingencies, cautious wording to discuss decisions already made in everything but name. Diana answered every question without thinking, her suggestions hitting the mark every time. Autopilot guided her through the paper maze to the very end.
Time passed without anyone noticing.
When the meeting finally wrapped up, the room filled with the scrape of chairs and murmured thanks. Hands were shaken, laughter about the weekend followed, someone mentioned the Christmas traffic. Diana kept smiling through it all. She slowly stacked her documents, fingers numb. The room emptied little by little, the noise fading beyond the glass walls.
Silence finally settled. Diana exhaled slowly, her hands trembling as she picked up her phone, only for the screen to stay black.
She frowned and pressed the button again.
Still nothing.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”
Irritated, Diana grabbed her power bank and plugged her phone in. While waiting for it to turn back on, she kept tidying her things mechanically. Staying efficient kept everything she was ignoring from exploding.
The screen finally lit up. She unlocked it quickly, about to set it down—
When it vibrated in her hand.
Once.
Twice.
Then again. Again and again, again and again, again and again and—
The home screen flooded with notifications. Missed calls. Missed video calls. Voicemails. Text messages.
Her breath caught in her throat. When a client couldn’t reach her, they always went through Hannah. But this—this was her personal phone…
She unlocked it fully and waited for the list to load, then had to sit down as her stomach twisted painfully.
Marnie’s school.
Again.
And again.
Daryl.
Even Anna.
The call history repeated itself. Two full hours of attempts.
“Oh no…” Diana whispered.
Her hands shook harder as she tapped her voicemail without thinking.
“You have ten new messages. First message received today at 4:15 p.m.”
“Miss Cavendish?” A polite voice spoke. “This is Mrs Stuart. Marnie informed us that you would be picking her up today, but classes ended thirty minutes ago and there has been no sign of anyone coming for her. Please call me back as soon as you can.”
“Miss Cavendish? Yes, it’s me again. It’s now been forty-five minutes and no other contact has come to collect Marnie. Please call us.”
“Diana? It’s Anna. You didn’t let me know what time you and Marnie would be back. It’s nearly five o’clock and I need to know for this evening’s schedule. I hope you and Marnie are having a lovely time.”
A lovely time.
Her chest tightened.
The last voicemail — the most recent, from Daryl — appeared on the screen as if to mock her. Her finger trembled as she pressed play.
“Diana,” Daryl’s cold voice came through, accompanied by a distant hum of traffic. “The school called. You forgot Marnie. Again. Dexter wasn’t available and Anna doesn’t drive, so I went to get her. You’re lucky the little one knows my phone number by heart. For some reason, they were unable to reach Anna, and you must have had your nose buried in work. Don’t worry about her — but know that we’ll be discussing this when you get back. Thirty years old or not.” A long sigh followed as Diana clapped a hand over her mouth. “Call me,” Daryl finished, more curtly.
The message ended, and Diana was left staring at her reflection in the screen. The office suddenly felt too bright, too large, and yet suffocating. Her ears began to ring softly, as if she’d just woken up and finally realised where she was.
She had promised.
The memory hit her violently, with brutal clarity. Marnie, Monday morning. Sad, then excited.
“You know what? On Friday, I’ll pick you up after school. Ice cream, then the cinema. What do you think? No phone.”
Her words.
Her own words — forgotten.
The room swam.
“No…” she gasped. “No, no, no…”
Her bag slipped from her shoulder and hit the floor with a dull thud she barely registered. Her legs gave way and she collapsed into her chair, elbows on the table, phone clutched between both hands and pressed against her forehead.
This wasn’t what she’d wanted. Not this.
Then her shoulders began to shake.
At first, there was no sound. No sobs. No tears. Just her breathing, trying to find a steady rhythm, as if her body had forgotten how to do it. Then the tears came without permission, blurring the names on her screen.
“I’m sorry… I’m trying,” Diana whispered into the room. “I really am trying…”
She pressed the heel of her hand against her eyes, trying to hold the tears back — until her breath broke. The dam inside her collapsed, and a sound escaped her lips. Long. Loud. Ruined. Human. Entirely unprofessional.
She stayed like that for long minutes, curled in her chair as weeks — if not years — finally caught up with her.
Friday, 7th December — 7:30 p.m.
“I’m here, I’m here!” Diana shouted as the door slammed shut behind her. She tossed her coat into a corner and rushed towards the dining room, kicking off her shoes along the way. She promised herself she’d put them away later. Right now, she had to find Marnie. She pushed open the dining room door, and her breath caught painfully in her throat.
Marnie was sitting at the table, her plate untouched. She rested her face in one hand, silently rolling a pea back and forth with her fork. Diana hurried to her side and dropped to her knees.
“Oh sweetheart, Marnie, I’m so sorry, I—”
Marnie turned her head away, deliberately ignoring her, and something inside Diana’s chest cracked wide open. She reached out and placed a hand over her daughter’s — only for Marnie to shove it away violently.
Entirely deserved.
“Please… look at me, Marnie,” Diana whispered.
“Why?” Marnie muttered. “So you can just pretend?”
“Marnie—”
“No!” Marnie shouted, slamming her hands down on the table. Diana flinched and straightened instinctively. “You always forget me! It’s always work! Never me! I hate your job, I hate your promises — I hate you!”
She shoved her plate away and stormed out of the room. Her sobs grew fainter with every step until the dull sound of a door slamming echoed through the manor.
Diana remained frozen, mouth slightly open, before collapsing into a chair. She dragged a hand down her face as a nervous laugh escaped her.
“I hate myself too,” she murmured between sobs. “What am I doing…”
“You’re simply forgetting yourself and working yourself to death — just like my dear sister did.”
Diana startled as Daryl sat down across from her. She opened her mouth to reply, but one look from her aunt stopped her cold — the same look that had silenced her when she was ten years old. Diana tucked her trembling hands between her knees and curled in on herself.
“You’re doing remarkable work within the family company, Diana,” Daryl began, cutting into her meat. She took a bite, then sighed. “I can’t deny that. In five years, you’ve managed to repay nearly half of the debts we’d been carrying for almost fifty years. It borders on a miracle — one I was incapable of achieving during my short time at the head of the Cavendish empire.”
“I… thank you,” Diana stammered, her focus fixed entirely on her breathing.
“But I cannot accept the state you’ve ended up in,” Daryl said coolly. “If you continue like this, you’ll fall ill and join your mother. And I know that isn’t what you want.”
“Mother had always been frail—”
“Silence,” Daryl ordered, and Diana shut her mouth instantly. “Illness or not, you’re destroying what truly matters. It took me years to realise that, and for that, I apologise. But for your sake — and Marnie’s — I don’t see another option but to take you off your duties.”
“I beg your pardon?! You can’t do that!”
“Indeed. You’re the CEO. I only manage one branch of the company,” Daryl replied evenly. “But I’m your aunt, and I’m speaking to you as such.”
“I can’t abandon my responsibilities!”
“It would only be temporary. Three weeks,” Daryl continued, pointing her knife at Diana. “You’re burnt out. You’re married to your work and building a family with your clients instead of spending time with your daughter. That’s why I’ve booked a bed and breakfast for you and Marnie.”
“You did what?!” Diana shot to her feet, eyes wide.
“If you accept, you have an appointment with a doctor tomorrow to be signed off work. A train will leave Edinburgh on Monday for your destination, where a hire car will be waiting for you. You have tonight to think it over. Don’t make the wrong decision.”
With that, silence fell once more. And Diana — who had lived only for her work — found herself completely unprepared.
Three weeks without work.
Just her and her daughter…