The success of the donor dinner should have felt like a victory. Two million pounds pledged. Security protocols validated. The foundation's future secured for another year. But as I sat at my desk on Monday morning, the glow of the event felt distant, overshadowed by a cold knot of anxiety in my stomach. The adrenaline that had carried me through Friday night had dissipated, leaving behind the raw nerves of someone who knows the reprieve is temporary.
My phone buzzed on the desk. It was Sarah. She didn't say good morning.
"We need to meet. Now. Bring Marcus. And David."
"Did something happen?" I asked. My voice sounded thin in the quiet office.
"Just come to the conference room. Ten minutes."
She hung up. I stood up and walked to the window. The street below was busy. People rushing t
