Looking at her standing there, I couldn't quite keep the disgust off my face.
If she hadn't spent every day since joining the company whispering in Victor's ear that I didn't actually understand the technology, that her skills far surpassed mine, he never would have believed it.
"In that case, Mr. Henson, here's my handover checklist."
I held out the document I'd prepared.
Every known issue with the instrument was listed in detail.
I knew that even with everything spelled out line by line, Sybilla wouldn't be able to make sense of it.
But I had to write it all down.
Because I knew exactly what would happen. Even after I was gone, Sybilla would find a way to pin the blame on me.
This checklist was my proof.
Every problem that machine had, I'd documented in black and white.
And in my previous life, I'd repaired it with my own hands. I knew every fault inside and out.
"Layla, we don't need your little checklist. I know exactly what's wrong with that machine!"
Sybilla was putting on a show for Victor, projecting confidence she didn't earn.