She demanded answers, her eyes locked onto George’s. "What is it, George? I need to know," she said, her voice firm. George hesitated, glancing at his colleagues. "Martha, it's complicated," he began. But Martha wasn’t having it. "No more excuses. Tell me what’s going on," she insisted, stepping closer. The room fell silent, all eyes on George. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, Martha," he said reluctantly. "You deserve the truth."