The daughter looked away.
"The woman had worked for our family for eleven years."
She swallowed.
"My mother was furious. She yelled at her in front of guests."
I listened.
The daughter continued.
"I remember standing in the hallway watching the housekeeper cry."
For several seconds, she was silent.
Then she whispered, "I didn't say anything."
I took a breath.
She looked back at me.
"I've regretted that for years."
I nodded slowly.
She continued.
"I tried talking to my mother after the fashion gala."
I waited.
"She says you humiliated her."
I almost laughed.
The daughter shook her head.
"I know."
She looked tired.
"She genuinely believes being contradicted in public is worse than what she did to you."
I considered that.
Then asked, "What do you want from this conversation?"
She looked surprised.
For a moment, she seemed uncertain.
Finally, she said, "I wanted you to know there are people close to her who don't agree with what happened."
I nodded.
"Thank you."
She hesitated.
Then added, "And I wanted to warn you."
My attention sharpened.
"About what?"
She looked toward the door of her office.
Then back at the screen.
"My mother doesn't handle losing control well."
I waited.
She continued.
"She's been speaking with people about making an example of AVERY."
I felt my jaw tighten.
"What kind of example?"
The daughter shook her head.
"I don't know the details. I don't have access to the company files."
She swallowed.
"But she thinks if she pressures your retailers and suppliers, you'll have to negotiate."
I took a slow breath.
The information was concerning.
But it was also incomplete.
I couldn't act on it as though every statement had been verified.
I thanked her.
Then said I would refer any relevant information to counsel for appropriate handling.
She nodded.
For a moment, she seemed disappointed that I wasn't more emotional.
Then I asked her something.
"Why are you doing this?"
She looked down.
For several seconds, she didn't answer.
Finally, she whispered, "Because I wish somebody had spoken when I was sixteen."
I felt my expression soften.
She wiped her eyes.
Then smiled sadly.
"I can't change that."
I nodded.
"No."
She looked toward me.
"But maybe I can stop being silent now."
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I thanked her again.