Maya forced a shrug. "Nothing."
Ethan didn't believe her; neither did she. He held up his phone. "I saw the video."
That stopped her. Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Maya sat down. "I didn't know."
"I know."
"They think I'm lying."
"I know."
"They think I want money."
Ethan's jaw tightened. "I know."
The words hung in the air: painful, unfair, true. Maya stared at the ground. For the first time since they'd met, she looked like what she actually was: a little girl, a little girl carrying far too much.
"They laughed at Grandma, too."
Ethan looked over. "What do you mean?"
"When she helped people." Maya smiled sadly. "Some people called her crazy."
The statement hit Ethan harder than expected, because suddenly he understood: this wasn't new for Maya. Being judged, being underestimated, being dismissed—it was her normal. And somehow she kept helping anyway. The realization left him speechless.
Just then, the patio doors burst open. Daniel stormed outside, phone in hand, fury written across his face.
"Dad, this has gone far enough!"
Maya immediately stiffened. Daniel pointed at the screen. "Do you have any idea what's happening?"
"Yes."
"Our stock dropped almost three percent today!"
Ethan blinked. "That's what you're worried about?"
"Of course I'm worried!" Daniel's voice rose. "The board is worried! The media is watching! Everyone thinks you've lost control!"
Maya quietly lowered her eyes. Daniel noticed, and somehow became even angrier.
"Look at this!" He held the phone toward her: more comments, more ridicule, more cruelty. "You see what this is causing?"
Maya stood slowly. "I should leave."
"No." The word came from Ethan: firm, immediate.