Although I was sleepy, the morning was more productive than I had imagined. When I left the apartment, the sun was already high in the sky, and the city felt strangely alive. I grabbed my bag, took one last look at the boxes stacked by the door, and locked it. In the office, yesterday's silence had transformed into something heavier. People were working, but their voices were low, and their glances shifted to me when they thought I wasn't looking. I walked down the hallway, the heels of my boots clicking on the floor, and felt the weight of their stares.
On my desk, a folder I hadn't left there was waiting for me. No note, no explanation; just neatly arranged papers. I opened it cautiously: copies of contracts, financial statements, and a sheet with my name circled in red. My pulse quicke
