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“I’m not sure if you’ve heard but I’ve put Philip in charge of Barton for the past week. I needed a vacation and the week was supposed to be fairly uneventful. Sadly, Philip and his assistant, Hailey Warren, made certain that uneventful was the last thing it was.”Greg Hansen glanced at the young man at Elizabeth’s side. He didn’t appear embarrassed or upset that his mother had told a stranger that he had failed his test.“Philip found several discrepancies in some of Barton’s subsidiaries,” Beth continued, never realizing that she had given the CEO the wrong impression. “I’m sad to say that the biggest discrepancies came from Travel Corp.”“Wait!” Greg Hansen said urgently. “Our CFO resigned suddenly last week and I’m not really up to speed on a lot of the financials. That’s one of the reasons I was going over them today.”“Your CFO, Ms. Julie Marshall, is the prime reason Travel Corp. has fallen below expectations since well before the acquisition by Barton Holdings,” Beth. She was a different person from the moment she woke up on that table. Her doctor took her home, a small apartment where she had spent most of her time reading or drawing, occasionally mustering up a bit of a social life. Returning there was like visiting a grave. They had kept payments on her rent so she would lose nothing, and she had no family and the friends she had were not very committal, so her absence was not exactly noticed. She sat on her bed for what seemed like an eternity, the experiences of her recent past feeling like and extremely vivid dream, images of violent forced sex and afternoons spent with her doctor laying in bed talking flashing into her mind. She looked around her room, at her drawings, her clothes, her books. Her life. It seemed so inconsequential compared to everything that had happened. 92 noticed again the clothes she was wearing. The time she spent with the project had been done mostly in the nude, as was her time with her doctor in his home. Clothes.
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