satisfied smile.
I stood up, gathered my notebook, and returned to my office.
I didn’t argue.
I didn’t threaten a lawsuit.
I didn’t remind Harold that I had personally trained three of the executives who now walked past my office without looking up.
Instead, I opened my desk drawer and took out a cardboard box.
A coffee mug went in first.
Then two framed photographs, a cardigan, a desk calendar, and a small ceramic bird my late mother had given me.
Ten years of work fit into one box.
Before
