The executives looked at Charlotte, then instinctively turned their attention to Old Mr. Carstairs, waiting for him to speak first.
But Tricia seized the moment. “You’re not seriously going to let this slide just because she’s Old Mr. Carstairs’s protégé, are you?”
The executives’ expressions darkened.
Calling them out for deferring to Old Mr. Carstairs was basically a slap in the face.
Yet Tricia had clearly lost patience. Chin raised, she stared Charlotte down. “You were in charge of the nanomedicine research, weren’t you? Now that something’s gone wrong, Ms. Sterling, you owe everyone here an explanation.”
Charlotte’s voice was cool. “I can’t promise the explanation I give will be the one you’re hoping for.”
Tricia’s face stiffened.
Old Mr. Carstairs unscrewed the lid of his water bottle and took a slow sip before speaking in an even tone. “If I entrusted the project to my student, it’s because I have complete faith in her. My student isn’t the type to sabotage her own future.”
Hearing this vote of confidence, Tricia’s expression turned even stormier, though she tried to hide it. “So you’re that sure she’d never betray you?”
“I know my student better than you do,” Old Mr. Carstairs replied, setting his water cup gently on the table.
Tricia’s hands tightened, her resentment barely masked.
Why was it so easy for Charlotte to win their trust and responsibility, while she herself had worked so hard only to end up as someone else’s pawn?
“Tricia, how many times are you going to play this game of accusing others to cover your own tracks? Aren’t you tired of the act?”
Charlotte turned to look at her.
Tricia froze for a moment, masking her panic beneath a forced bravado. “Ms. Sterling, getting desperate already? Throwing accusations around now?”
“Who’s really throwing accusations?” Charlotte had dropped all pretense of politeness. “Assistant Heath, why don’t you tell everyone what happened?”
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