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“Not happening.”

“Wren.”

“Raj, we’ve been preparing for this for months. We’ve teased this product already. There’s no way we’re postponing it now.”

He walks in fully, waving his tablet. “The investors are watching how we handle this scandal like hawks. If we launch with this storm hanging over us?—”

“All the more reason to launch. If we postpone, then it’s a clear message that we’re affected by the drama. We must present a strong front. We go on with all activities as scheduled.All.”

“If the investors pull out, we’ll be launching into nothing.”

“We have investors meeting coming up soon to discuss Phase 2 of the skin diagnostic app. We’ll know their thoughts then.”

Raj opens his mouth to argue then stops short, shoving his thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose instead.

Another knock. I take a breath and square my shoulders, steeling myself for more bad news. A head full of wavy auburn curls pokes in and my shoulders relax.

My best friend, Jen, rushes to my side like a hurricane in Lululemon, her gym bag in one hand and her phone in the other. I almost sigh with relief at her presence. Only Jen could waltz into one’s office on her way from the gym with her hair in a messy bun yet somehow look like a supermodel while at it.

Raj shifts, a flush shading his cheeks. “Hi, Jen.”

“Hi, Raj. Hi, Talia.” She turns to me, her perfectly shaped brows knotted into a frown. “Wren, what’s happening? Please tell me you’re not being called a fraud all over the internet.”

“It’s true.”

“Camille’s post is trending on Twitter. She’s making viral TikToks calling herself ‘the original lemon girl.’ People are stitching it like it’s gospel.”

I laugh, but it’s not funny.

“We were just laughing over how nonsensical this was last week. How did it spiral into something so big? Why’s the media platforming that woman?”

I press my palms into my eyes. “I’m as clueless as you are.”

“The vitriol online is insane.”

“And in real life,” Talia adds. “She’s been receiving the most disgusting and disturbing hate mail. You need security at this point.”

I sit on the couch and Jen settles beside me.

“I agree. People are nuts. Lily told me about the lemons. That’s a threat. You need protection.”

“It’s fan mail compared to the emails I’ve been getting.”

Talia scrolls her laptop. “I’m looking into some security services. What do you think about this one? It’a a security?—”

“What? I’m not hiring bodyguards. I’m good.”

“It’s not up for debate. You’re being harassed and it’s not just online anymore.”

“Even so?—”

Talia folds her arms. “Jen’s right. We’ve received three threatening emails this morning alone… One mentioned your son.”

My blood runs cold. My head snaps up.

“What?”

“They didn’t use his name. Just ‘your kid.’ But it’s enough.”