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won? You think this ruins me? People forgive powerful men.”
My pregnant daughter ran into my office, her face covered in fresh b:ruises. Her husband, a beloved local politician, casually strolled in behind her, shutting the door.
I stood.
At five foot four, I had been called small in boardrooms by men who later asked me for mercy.
I walked around the desk and stopped in front of him.
“No, Grant,” I said. “People forgive mistakes. They do not forgive monsters when the monster forgets the microphone is on.”
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