Celeste’s POVI sat at my desk, staring at the glowing screen, and yet I wasn’t really seeing it.The emails, the notices, the latest correspondence from suppliers, all the blocks, all the legal notices, the veiled threats, blurred together into one relentless, suffocating roar.My chest felt heavy, as if every ounce of air had been replaced with lead.We were cornered. Financially, professionally, emotionally, everywhere I looked, there was a wall. Orders were frozen, production halted. The supply chain we had painstakingly built over years was disintegrating in front of my eyes.I rubbed my temples, trying to stave off the headache that had been growing since sunrise. Jenny had been doing her best with media management, but even she looked defeated.The press wasn’t kind, and the whispers on social media had begun to seep into everyday conversations, like a cold fog I couldn’t escape.I had spent hours drafting emails, sending pleas, negotiating, begging, anyone, anywhere, for help.
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