Elliot, I'll be escalating this for internal review, to make sure we keep appropriate boundaries around sensitive discussions. Best, Isabella Your heart drops. Not like a shock, like something giving way beneath you, a sinking that starts in your chest and spreads before you can stop it. You lean back, as if distance from the screen might lessen the weight of it. It doesn't. You read it again. *Escalating this for internal review.* The words are clinical, almost detached, and that's what makes them worse. No emotion, no hesitation, no room to negotiate. It's already decided. Already moving. Your breathing goes shallow before you notice. You run a hand over your face, through your hair, back down again, as if the motion could steady something that has already slipped. You think about replying. You don't, because there's nothing left to say that won't make it worse. Your head starts to pound. You could try to sleep, and maybe escape this for a few hours, if sleep comes at all. Or you could stay up, in case something changes, though nothing will. Facing it is braver than hiding from it. Isn't it? [[Cybercrime/The_Phisherman/Go to bed|Go to bed]] --- [[Stay up|Stay up]]