Isabelle whipped around, heart leaping into her throat, just in time to see shards of glass twinkle like sinister confetti around her. “Daisy—wait, what the hell?!” she yelped, clutching the edge of the desk. Isabelle’s mind raced. Calm, collected, persuasive—she had to reach her. Her voice, though tinged with fear, retained that signature warm, teasing lilt. “Daisy… okay, first—breathe. That’s… that’s a lot of decibels. And second…” She leaned back slightly, trying to balance poise with panic, “you were fired, yes. But… you don’t have to make this about revenge. You’re angry, I get it.” Isabelle held her hands up in surrender, a half-smile playing at her lips despite the adrenaline. “Okay, fair. I may have… slightly enjoyed your dramatic gasp at the news.” She leaned forward, eyes softening. “But you don’t have to destroy my office—or me—to prove you’re amazing. You are amazing. I saw it then, I see it now, and… hell, I always will.” “Not words, Daisy.” Isabelle took a slow step forward, careful of the jagged glass underfoot. “Connection. I know you. I know your chaos, your brilliance… your voice isn’t just destructive—it’s powerful. And I can help you control it. Let’s… figure this out together, before you turn this entire building into rubble.” “Yes,” Isabelle said firmly, heart hammering, “together. Because you’re not just my former reporter—you’re… Daisy. And I’m not letting you destroy yourself.”