Blair's tone had Blaise and Ezra's smiles falling, a chill moving down their spines in recognition that this was not a good story before she even really began.

"Her name was Megan," Blair said softly, Megan's round, smiling face floating into her mind, "and she was wonderful. Adorable. Innocent. It was like I found a little sister I didn't even know I'd wanted. She was a scholarship student - poor, struggling - but she was so bright. She had... so much potential."

Blair fought the tears that prickled at her eyes, even as she continued with a clear voice.

"She and I met by chance - we didn't share any classes. I adored her instantly, though. When I met her, I didn't really have... awareness... yet. I didn't notice the bruises she hid with her long sleeves even in summer, and I didn't see how sometimes she came to school with a growling stomach. I... I was dumb. Naïve. I was just excited to know her, and fascinated by how different her life was from mine.

She was the one that introduced me to street food. She showed me how to shop at thrift stores. I let her lead me because... I was seeing it through my lens as a type of experience, I guess. Honestly, it's gross now that I think about it."

Blair shook her head and sighed heavily.

"She died her sophomore year. I was a junior. Her ex ran her down with his car. She survived, but after leaving the ER she couldn't afford any of the medications, the PT, the ongoing care... She was already struggling to just have food on the table. She ended up ending it to escape it all."

Blair closed her eyes, one stubborn tear making it through despite her best efforts.

"I didn't know," she whispered, shaking her head, "because I was oblivious. I came from money... I had no idea what her real struggles were. I didn't know she'd gotten that scholarship to escape poverty. Hell, I didn't know what poverty really meant other than a Webster's definition. I'd never gone to bed hungry or worried about being homeless if I couldn't make rent," adding quietly, "and I didn't know she'd been dating a monster when I convinced her to break up with him... just for him to..."

She shook her head, taking a deep breath and trying to subtly wipe the tear away without the men noticing.

The tension in the car was a heavy weight, and even Tim was struggling to breathe as he navigated through the city streets.

"I realized later, of course, but it was too late," Blair admitted sadly, "and I realized how horrible I had been. As a friend, but also as a person. Thrift shopping like it was some kind of... exotic experience to try out. Treating her poor background like an outfit I could try on for a while. I realized I wasn't a good person, and I wanted to be better. Susan was the identity I used when I was a student so no one would know where I came from, so I kept it after I graduated. I had Dad help me create an entirely new identity separate from the Ward name. No special treatment, no pulled strings to get me through when I didn't earn it... just me trying to be a normal person."

Blair looked back at Blaise's hard face and dark eyes, and smiled with a bit of self-deprecation.

"My Dad and brother didn't approve when I decided to truly go at it alone, but they supported me anyway. Promised to be there if I ever needed them. I talked to them every day, saw them for dinner every week... but I stopped taking their money. I sold my designer brand things, put my entire bank account balance into an IRA, and started living on only my own income. It's not quite the same as starting from scratch - not with an IRA already big enough to support me if I wanted to retire... but it was the closest someone like me could get."

Turning back, twisting her fingers in her lap, Blair kept her eyes down for a moment as she grimaced at the way she'd been a rich woman trying to play 'normal' like it was a game. The men could all see how Megan's memory clearly weighed on her - the guilt shining in her eyes.

"You know you aren't the reason she died, right?" Blaise asked carefully, his voice low and the worry evident in his eyes, "He's the one that got violent. She's the one that gave up. It's... you can't possibly think-"

"I recognize the role I played as one of the reasons she did what she did," Blair interrupted, quiet but firm, "I played the role of a friend without awareness of the impact of my words and my advice. I caused harm, and while that harm may not have led directly to her death... it was absolutely a factor in why she died."

Blair raised her eyes, meeting Blaise's with a resolve that made him flinch.

"We carry the weight of the decisions we make in this life, and I understand what I did wrong. I understand the parts he played, and the parts mental illness played... I also recognize that society, inequity, and classism all played a part. But what I did isn't dismissed just because it wasn't the only thing that tore her down until she had nothing left to live for. I swore at her grave the day we buried her to be better. To do better. I walked away because I wanted to, and I like to think it helped me do just that."

Blair sighed, shaking her head and smirking.

"We all have our baggage. I won't pretend I'm truly poor - my IRA has only gotten bigger, and my inheritance is nothing to scoff at even without accounting for Dad's businesses and things. I try and live honestly though. I don't rely on any of that for my day-to-day life. I've had to choose between paying the water and electric bills. I've gone to bed after a dinner of a cup of noodles because it was all I could afford that night. I don't wear name-brand clothes and I don't keep up with the circles of the wealthy. I likely would have lived and died a college professor without anyone knowing who I was if... if Dad and Jake..."

"Did you enjoy teaching?" Ezra asked quietly, studying her.

"Very much," she smiled, her eyes sad, "I may not really remember my grandmother, but I loved the antiques Dad had in the house. I taught and did appraisals for a local high-end antiques dealer on the side... and of course I painted in my spare time. It was perfect. I had a small apartment I loved, a job I adored and hobbies I managed to turn into side-gigs... and I had my family. I was genuinely incredibly happy."

Blair turned to Ezra then, tilting her head.

"What about you, Ezra?" she asked suddenly, studying his shocked face, "Do you enjoy being the CEO?"

"I do," he admitted, sitting back with a smirk, "I enjoy business. The push and pull of negotiations, outsmarting the competition, juggling the different variables like a mad scientist trying to find the perfect concoction for a successful business in the marketplace. I don't doubt I could do other things, but I have absolutely no desire to."

"And were you also groomed to be the CEO?" Blair asked, noting they were pulling into the parking lot but not in a hurry to wrap up their conversation.

"I was," he confirmed with a nod, "My father took over from my grandfather in his 30s, but he died several years ago with my mother in a plane crash. My grandfather took back over until I was ready, and continued my father's preparations for me. I never really desired anything else. Sure, I had a small rebellious period in my younger years and went out to try other things, but in the end I realized this was what I was truly made for. It's where I'm most successful and most fulfilled."

"You're one of those big shots that would start your own company if you didn't have one to inherit," Blair chuckled, a knowing glint in her eye, "the kind they write come-back novels about. You've got that CEO energy about you... just nicer."

"He's only nice to you," Blaise muttered not-so-quietly from the front seat.

"Gonna call bullshit on that," Blair laughed, "I've worked at the company too long to be fooled."

She turned to Ezra with a softened smile, adding, "I actually stuck around your company because of how you run it. Valuing employees is good for business, yet not as common as it should be. I was glad to work for you."

"It's a little weird knowing that the Ward heiress was working as a project manager at my company," Ezra admitted with a chuckle, "but I'm honored you approve of my leadership style. It's an interesting balancing act to be seen as firm enough that people don't try to take advantage of you, yet also soft enough that your employees trust you and the work environment isn't suffocating. My VPs help a lot with that, truthfully, since I focus less on company culture than they do."

"They are a reflection of you, though," Blair said, glancing out at the long warehouse-like building they'd parked outside, "If you were cutthroat and harsh, you'd hire VPs that created that environment. You may have a reputation for a cold, badass CEO, but the truth of your leadership style is in who you hire and how they operate. You can't hide that. Now, come on! Let me introduce you to a whole new world Mr. CEO!"

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