THE INTERVIEW THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
1507 Words
EMILY'S POV
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, the vibration rattling against the cheap wood. I ignore it at first, pulling the blanket over my head. My body aches from yesterday—from the alcohol, from the shame, from the weight of everything I've done.
But the phone keeps buzzing. Insistent. Demanding.
I groan and reach for it, squinting at the bright screen. My eyes struggle to focus, still blurry from sleep and the remnants of last night's tears.
Then I see the message.
YOU'RE HIRED. YOU'RE NOW THE NEW SECRETARY OF BARRICK GOLD MINE COMPANY. REPORT TO THE MINE TOMORROW MORNING.
My heart stops.
"What the hell?" I sit up so fast my head spins. I read the message again. And again. And again. The words don't change. They stare back at me, cold and official, like a death sentence wearing a suit.
"Emily? You okay in there?" William's voice comes through the door. "Your mom sent me to check on you. She's worried sick."
"I—" My voice cracks. "I'm fine. Just give me a minute."
The door creaks open anyway. William pokes his head in, his brow furrowed with concern. "You don't look fine. You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Worse." I turn the phone toward him. "Look at this."
He steps closer, reading over my shoulder. His eyes widen. "Barrick Gold Mine? Emily, you didn't apply there. You told me you'd never work for that monster."
"I didn't apply anywhere." My hands are shaking. "I don't remember sending a single application. Not to them. Not to anyone."
William sits on the edge of my bed, his face serious. "Then how did they find you? How do they even know who you are?"
The question hangs in the air. Heavy. Accusing.
"The hotel," I whisper. "The one-night stand. He must have recognized me. He must have—"
"Whoa, slow down." William holds up his hands. "What hotel? What one-night stand?"
I open my mouth to explain, but the words won't come. How can I tell him that I slept with my enemy? That I let Derek Molson's hands touch my body, his lips kiss my skin? How can I admit that for one night, I forgot who he was and let myself feel something—something that now feels like betrayal?
"Emily." William's voice is gentle but firm. "Talk to me. Whatever happened, I'm here."
I take a shaky breath. "The night I got drunk. The night I stayed in the city. I ended up in the wrong hotel room. I was so out of it, I couldn't see straight. And there was this man, and we—" I can't finish the sentence. The shame burns my throat.
"You slept with someone," William finishes for me, his voice flat. "Someone from Barrick?"
"I didn't know who he was! Not until the morning. I saw his chain—it had his name on it. Derek. Derek Molson." I bury my face in my hands. "I slept with him, William. The CEO. The man who probably killed my father."
The room goes silent. The only sound is my ragged breathing and the distant hum of traffic outside.
William reaches out and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Okay. Okay. Let's think about this logically. He offered you a job. That means he knows who you are, and he's keeping you close. That's not good."
"But what if it's a coincidence?" I lift my head, desperate for hope. "What if someone else hired me? What if he doesn't know?"
"Emily." William's eyes are sad. "The universe doesn't work like that. Not for people like us."
My phone buzzes again. Another message.
CONFIRM YOUR ACCEPTANCE BY 5PM TODAY. FAILURE TO REPLY WILL RESULT IN THE OFFER BEING WITHDRAWN.
"Look at this." I show William. "They want an answer. Fast."
"Don't take it," he says immediately. "It's a trap. You know it's a trap. That family doesn't do anything without a reason."
My fingers hover over the screen. I should delete it. Block the number. Forget this ever happened.
But then I see my father's face. I see him lying at the riverbank, his body broken, his eyes empty. I hear the whispers of the community, the mockery, the pity. I remember the struggle—the failing, the humiliation, the desperate need to do something meaningful with my life.
"Emily, please." William grips my arm. "This is dangerous. You could get hurt. You could die."
"I'm already dying, William." My voice is barely a whisper. "I'm dying inside every single day, knowing that the people who killed my father are walking free. Knowing that I can't do anything to stop them. I can't even afford to buy groceries without my mom's help."
"So what? You're going to walk into the lion's den?"
I meet his eyes. "Yes."
I press confirm.
ACCEPTED. REPORT TO THE ADMINISTRATIVE OFFICE AT 8AM SHARP.
The message sends instantly. No going back now.
William stands up, pacing the room. "This is insane. This is absolutely insane. What are you going to do? Walk in there like nothing happened? Pretend you don't know who he is?"
"I don't have a choice." I get out of bed, my legs shaky beneath me. "This is my chance, William. My only chance. If I can get inside that company, I can find evidence. I can prove what they did to my father. I can make them pay."
"And what about the baby?" William stops pacing, his eyes boring into mine. "What about Derek's baby?"
My hand instinctively moves to my stomach. The life growing inside me. The life I haven't told anyone about—not even my own mother.
"Please don't tell anyone," I say. "Not yet. I need to figure this out first."
"Figure what out? Whether you're going to keep the child of a murderer?"
"He's not—" I stop myself. I don't know what Derek is. I don't know anything. "I don't know what to do about the baby. But I know I can't let it stop me from getting justice for my father. If I don't do this, I'll never be able to live with myself."
William sighs, the fight leaving his body. "Fine. But I'm going with you."
"What?"
"To the interview. I'll wait outside. If anything happens, I'll be there." He grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look at him. "I'm not losing you too, Emily. You're all I have left."
Tears prick my eyes. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me." He pulls me into a hug. "Just promise me you'll be careful."
"I promise."
---
I don't sleep that night. I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing. What will Derek say when he sees me? Will he pretend he doesn't know? Will he smirk and act like nothing happened? Or worse—will he acknowledge it, forcing me to relive that night in front of everyone?
The alarm goes off at six. I've barely closed my eyes.
I shower, dress in my best outfit—a simple black pencil skirt and a white blouse. Professional. Unassuming. Invisible.
My mother is waiting in the kitchen, her eyes red from crying. She knows everything now. William must have told her.
"Emily," she says, her voice trembling. "Please don't do this. We can find another way."
"I'm sorry, Mom." I kiss her cheek. "But I have to. For Dad. For us. For everyone they've hurt."
She grips my hands. "Promise me you'll come home."
"I promise."
William drives me to the mining company. The building looms before us, cold and imposing. It's the largest structure in the area, made of glass and steel. It looks like a monument to greed.
"Ready?" William asks, parking the car.
"No." I take a deep breath. "But I'm going anyway."
I step out of the car, my heels clicking against the pavement. My legs feel like jelly. My heart pounds so loud I can barely hear myself think.
The security guard eyes me suspiciously. "Name?"
"Emily Haven. I'm here for the secretary position."
He checks his clipboard. "Go to the 15th floor. Someone will meet you."
The elevator ride feels like an eternity. I watch the numbers climb, each floor taking me closer to Derek. Closer to the monster. Closer to justice—or destruction.
The doors open. A woman in a sharp suit greets me. "Miss Haven? I'm Quinn Molson. The CEO's wife. I'll be your final interviewer."
Quinn. Derek's wife. The judge.
"Thank you," I manage, my voice steady despite my shaking hands.
She leads me through a hallway of glass offices. Everyone stares at me. Whispering. Judging.
Then we stop in front of a door. A gold plaque reads: DEREK MOLSON - CEO.
"Go ahead." Quinn's smile is thin. "He's waiting for you."
I push the door open.
Derek sits behind a massive wooden desk, his eyes on me the moment I enter. Cold. Calculating. Unreadable.
"Miss Haven," he says, his voice smooth as silk. "I've been expecting you."
- Writer
