Sophie’s POV.
My day had started off with my usual order– a spiced coffee and an unusual shaky optimism. The unusual feeling in my stomach made me grimace and the moment I stepped foot into the office I felt worse.
I gulped down my remaining coffee and tossed the paper cup into the bin beside my desk before I sat down. I shook off the bad feeling and got to work immediately. I had been editing a report that was due for submission in the next three days. I could just have handed it to a subordinate editor, but I loved perfect work.
The manager’s voice echoed through the office as he walked towards my desk. I sighted him but paid him no mind; he never had anything useful to say anyway.
“I was looking for you yesterday, Sophie.”
“Good morning sir,” I said forcing a fake smile on my face.
His gaze lingered on me for a bit before he looked away. “Here.”
I watched as he dropped an envelope on my desk and then walked away.
Without hesitation, I picked it up and opened it, and it’s content didn't fail to surprise me. I got up from my seat immediately and walked towards his office.
“What is this?” I asked, holding the envelope up enough for him to see.
“Exactly what it looks like.” He said, his expression was as calm as ever.
“You are firing me? "Really?” My voice rose. “You can't do that.”
“Says who?” He replied, he sat up in his chair. “Please don't make this a big deal, after all you are the one who chose not to cooperate with me.”
Cooperate? Is this a joke?
“Hold up, so you mean to tell me you are firing me because I refused to be quiet about your misdeeds; you’ve been stealing from the company, harassing staff and interns– myself included, and now because I choose to speak up you are firing me.”
He smiled, this fool simply smiled. He was taking my job from me and he was so calm about it. Did he even have the right to do this? I was one of the best in this company.
“You can’t fire me,” I said sternly trying to call out his bluff maybe.
“Read the letter properly, I've gotten permission from the proper authority to do so.” He said repeatedly tapping his pen on the desk.
I chuckled “This is crazy. So you are firing me because I didn't consent to engaging in illegal activities with you or you are firing me because I refused to sleep with you?”
“You’re so full of yourself Sophie.” He said, his expression a mask of smugness. “Listen you're done here okay. Turn in your office pass card and clear your desk.”
I tsked. “I blame myself for this really, I should have reported your ass the moment I noticed your shady activities.”
His face darkened. “Watch your mouth.”
“No! you watch yours.” I snapped back.
He relaxed in his seat and chuckled. “You forget that you are not consequential. You're a junior reporter with a sharp tongue. Who do you think they'll believe? Me or you?
I let out a humourless laugh. “Oh please, you are a walking HR complaint, everyone knows that.”
His eyes glinted with peril. “I honestly pity you, Sophie." You're so talented. It's a shame you think being loud will save you. "Don't push me, Sophie, or I'll make sure no paper ever hires you again.”
I can’t believe that this is really happening.
I straightened up, I couldn't let him see that he had gotten what he wanted. “You haven't won yet.” I yanked my ID lanyard and dropped it on his desk. “Goodbye.”
I spun on my heels and left. I tried calming myself down. It would be nothing but irrational and unprofessional to launch at a man almost more than half my size.
I walked back to my desk, anger and disappointment bubbled in me. I packed up my belongings and left immediately. I didn't say goodbye to anyone basically because the office was somewhat empty– I had arrived very early this morning and I didn't have any friends here– except the cleaner who I was going to send a text to later this evening.
That stupid man thinks he has f*****g won, I pity him.
As I stepped out of the office for the last time, I wanted to scream– really badly. But I didn’t, I stayed calm. I held my head high, even though my stomach twisted with the familiar taste of defeat.
This wasn’t my first firing. There was always something for them to complain about; I was always too outspoken, too stubborn, or too unwilling to look the other way—my resume read like a list of burnt bridges. Deep down, I knew I wasn’t the problem. The system was unprincipled, and I had too much fire in my veins to stay silent.
☘︎
When I got home, I dropped my bag on the couch and my work items on the dining table. I made sure to avoid eye contact with the bills lying on the table, patiently waiting for me to open them.
I could hear my sister Emily in the kitchen. She came out one hand on her hip, the other holding a spoon that had sauce dripping from it.
“You’re home early.” She said, giving me a questioning look. “What happened?”
I didn't answer.
“Sophie, what’s wrong?”
I gave her a knowing look.
Her brows shot up. “Again?”
I placed my fingers on my temple and massaged lightly. “Please don't make me feel more terrible than I already do.”
“Sophie, this is the third time this year,” she says, handing me a glass of water.
I huffed. “I know okay.”
“But why?”
"I found out my manager’s secret. He's been siphoning money from the firms and harassing people. And like every other time, I decided to be the one who speaks up.”
She blew out a breath. “Geez.”
Emily flopped into the armchair beside me.”Wow, you have a gift for picking the worst workplaces and worst bosses.”
I chuckled. “Tell me about it. Why can't I just be quiet like everyone else, huh? What’s wrong with me?” I sighed.
“Because you are not built that way. You don't fold your hand and watch bad things happen. You always fight for what’s right, that one of the good things about you.”
I scoffed, “Well ‘what's right’ is costing me my job and constantly piling bills on my table, and another black mark on my resume.”
“Well then let that just be fuel to your fire, when you send out applications tonight.” She said giving me a warm smile.
I gasped. “How did you know–”
“C’mon sis I know you better than you think” she laughed. “Besides you got too much fire to waste on self–pity.”
I smiled.
☘︎
Hours later I sat curled over my laptop, I was surrounded by empty coffee mugs, newspapers and a couple of files.
Emily had long gone to bed.
My fingers flew across my keyboard as I typed. I had written my résumé so many times I had practically memorised it, yet I still rewrote lines desperately having the urge to stand out.
I sighed, rewriting and deleting; the words were either too much or not enough. I fired up application after application, email after email.
Click. Send.
Another.
Click. Send.
Again and again.
When I finally leaned back exhaustion tugged my body but the relief I felt in my chest was worth it. My eyelids grew heavy and I was constantly yawning.
I closed my laptop halfway ready to shut it down for the night when–
Ding.
My inbox flashed.
I blinked. An email at this time of the night.
My heart skipped a beat. Who sent job emails this late?
Curiosity took over as I clicked it open, my pulse quickening as the subject line came into view:
Invitation to
Interview– Confidential assignment.
My breath caught, and I screamed.