You’re a service.

You’re a line on an invoice.

You come from an apartment building Chadworth wouldn’t drive past with the windows down, and when I marry him — and I am going to marry him, that’s already decided — you will be out of this house inside an hour, and you will not get a reference, and I will make sure of both.”

In the control room, Chadworth Prescott sat completely still while every conversation of the last four months rearranged itself in his head.

Because he had heard versions of this before.