Cracks Beneath the Surface 2
2341 Words
The evening unfolded at an easy pace.
Plates were cleared and replaced.
Laughter rose and fell around the long table.
Someone proposed a toast to the success of the Kingston contract, earning
another chorus of applause.
Even the usually reserved members of the editorial department found
themselves joining in.
Elena listened more than she spoke.
She learned that Daniel had once wanted to be a novelist before settling for
book design.
That Nora had changed jobs four times in three years because, in her own
words, "life is too short to work with boring people."
That Mrs. Beatrice from accounting secretly wrote romance novels under a pen
name.
"You do?" Elena asked, genuinely surprised.
The older woman laughed, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.
"Don't sound so shocked."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"It's alright." Mrs. Beatrice waved a hand dismissively.
"Even my husband doesn't know."
The table erupted in laughter.
For a while, Elena simply enjoyed listening.
It reminded her of happier days—before hospitals, before funeral homes,
before grief had become a permanent guest in her life.
As the main course was served, Greg rose from his seat.
"I'd like to thank everyone."
The room gradually quieted.
"This contract wasn't won by one person."
"It was won because every department did its part."
He lifted his glass.
"To Bright Horizon Publishing."
"To Bright Horizon!"
Glasses clinked around the table.
Greg's eyes drifted briefly toward Elena.
"And I'd also like to welcome our newest member."
Several people immediately turned toward her.
Elena looked startled.
"Miss Morgan has only been with us for a short while, but she's already
become part of the family."
A few employees applauded.
Daniel playfully nudged her shoulder.
"You see? You're officially one of us now."
Elena smiled shyly.
"Thank you."
Her cheeks warmed under the unexpected attention.
Greg smiled before taking his seat again.
The conversations resumed.
Dessert arrived.
Coffee followed.
People gradually separated into smaller groups.
Nora excused herself to answer a phone call outside.
Daniel wandered off to challenge someone to a game of darts in the
restaurant's recreation lounge.
For the first time that evening...
Elena found herself sitting alone.
She barely noticed Greg approaching until he pulled out the chair beside
her.
"Mind if I sit?"
She looked up politely.
"Not at all."
"I've been meaning to ask..."
"How are you settling in?"
"I'm doing alright."
"The work isn't overwhelming?"
She shook her head.
"Everyone has been very patient with me."
"I'm glad to hear that."
There was a brief silence.
Not awkward.
Simply quiet.
Greg folded his hands on the table.
"You know..."
"I wasn't entirely convinced when Michael Dawson recommended you."
Elena blinked.
"I wasn't qualified."
"No."
He smiled.
"You weren't."
She laughed softly.
"I appreciate your honesty."
"But..."
He leaned back.
"I've learned that qualifications don't always tell you who a person
is."
His tone remained professional.
Measured.
"I've noticed you're dependable."
"You stay late without being asked."
"You help people without expecting recognition."
"Those qualities are difficult to teach."
Elena lowered her eyes.
"My mother used to say that if you're fortunate enough to help someone,
you should."
Greg nodded slowly.
"She raised you well."
For a moment, sadness flickered across Elena's face.
"She tried."
Greg noticed the change in her expression.
He didn't ask any more questions.
Instead, he changed the subject.
"When you're ready, I'd like to start giving you more
responsibilities."
She looked surprised.
"Really?"
"I think you're capable of more than answering phones."
A spark of excitement lit her eyes.
"I'd like that."
"It'll come with a small salary adjustment."
"Thank you, sir."
Greg smiled.
"You've earned the opportunity."
As they spoke, Nora returned from outside.
She slowed her steps for a brief moment.
Greg and Elena were talking.
Nothing seemed unusual.
Greg stood as soon as he noticed Nora approaching.
"I'll let you two enjoy the rest of the evening."
"Thank you for coming."
He walked away.
Nora slid back into her chair.
"What did the boss want?"
Elena smiled.
"He said he might start giving me more responsibilities."
"Oh?"
Nora raised an eyebrow.
"That's good."
"I think so."
She hesitated before adding,
"He also said there could be a small raise."
Nora grinned.
"See? I told you they like you around here."
The conversation drifted to other things, and the evening carried on.
No one noticed Greg standing near the restaurant entrance a few minutes
later, quietly watching the employees leave in groups.
His gaze rested on Elena only briefly before he looked away.
It was such a fleeting moment that anyone else would have dismissed it.
Nora did too.
Still...
As she and Elena walked toward the bus stop together, an odd thought crossed
her mind.
She couldn't explain why.
She simply hoped...
She was imagining things.
The bus arrived a few minutes later with a screech of brakes.
By the time Elena and Nora climbed aboard, most of the seats were already
occupied.
They found two empty seats near the back.
The city drifted past the windows in ribbons of light.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
The day's excitement had finally begun to wear off.
Nora rested her head against the window.
"I ate far too much."
Elena laughed softly.
"You said that after your second plate."
"I know."
"And then I had dessert."
"You had two."
Nora sighed dramatically.
"Don't remind me."
Their laughter blended with the hum of the engine.
It felt... normal.
A feeling Elena was slowly beginning to treasure.
The following Monday, work resumed as though the dinner had never happened.
Phones rang endlessly.
Printers spat out page after page.
Editors hurried from one department to another carrying marked-up
manuscripts.
By noon, Elena had already made three trips to the records room.
She was returning with another stack of files when she nearly collided with
Greg outside his office.
"Oh."
She stepped back immediately.
"I'm sorry, sir."
Greg smiled.
"My fault."
He reached out instinctively to steady the pile of folders before they
slipped from her arms.
For the briefest moment, his fingers brushed against her hand.
It was over almost instantly.
"So many files?"
"The editorial department requested them."
"They certainly keep you busy."
"They do."
"Well..."
He opened the office door for her.
"After you."
"Thank you."
Elena walked inside, placed the files on the conference table and left
without another thought.
Later that afternoon, she joined Nora in the staff cafeteria.
The smell of fried rice and grilled chicken filled the room.
Daniel waved them over.
"There you are."
"I thought you'd abandoned us."
"I wish," Nora muttered.
"The proofreading department nearly buried me alive."
Daniel laughed.
"Occupational hazard."
As they settled into their seats, conversation flowed easily.
Someone complained about deadlines.
Someone else joked about quitting to become a travel blogger.
Even Elena joined in occasionally.
Watching her laugh, Daniel smiled.
"You know..."
"When you first came here, I thought you never smiled."
Elena looked embarrassed.
"Was I really that serious?"
"You looked like someone carrying the weight of the world."
Nora nodded.
"You still do sometimes."
The words lingered.
For a moment, Elena's smile faded.
Then she quietly said,
"I'm learning how to put some of it down."
Neither of them asked what she meant.
Everyone carried something.
Some burdens simply stayed unspoken.
As lunch ended, Greg happened to pass through the cafeteria.
He greeted several employees before pausing beside their table.
"Everything alright here?"
Daniel nodded.
"We're just convincing Elena that she deserves a vacation."
Greg smiled.
"I agree."
He looked at Elena.
"You work too hard."
She laughed politely.
"I don't think I've earned one yet."
"Perhaps not."
His tone remained light.
"But don't burn yourself out."
He wished them a pleasant afternoon and continued toward the exit.
The conversation resumed almost immediately.
Only Nora watched him leave.
She frowned faintly.
Not because he had said anything inappropriate.
Nothing he said was unusual.
If anything, he was friendlier than most supervisors.
Still...
She had begun noticing something.
Whenever Greg walked through the office...
His attention always seemed to find Elena.
It was subtle.
Easy to miss.
Easy to explain away.
Perhaps he simply appreciated a hardworking employee.
That had to be it.
Nora shook the thought from her mind.
She was reading too much into ordinary things.
Surely.
That evening, after everyone had gone home, Greg remained alone in his
office.
The lights across the publishing floor had gone dark one by one.
He stood beside the window overlooking the city.
On his desk rested a stack of employee performance files.
One folder sat apart from the others.
Elena Morgan.
He picked it up and opened it.
Inside were ordinary documents.
Her application form.
Employment records.
Performance reviews.
Nothing unusual.
Nothing remarkable.
Yet his eyes lingered on her photograph longer than they should have.
A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You'll come around eventually," he murmured to the empty office.
He closed the file gently.
Outside, the city carried on, unaware that another quiet storm had already
begun to gather.
Not with violence.
Not yet.
But with patience.
And sometimes...
Patience was far more dangerous.
By the following week, Greg seemed to have discovered countless reasons to
call for Elena.
Sometimes it was to deliver contracts.
Sometimes to organize files already arranged.
Sometimes simply to bring him coffee despite the office pantry being only a
few steps from his office.
No one questioned it.
She was efficient.
Reliable.
Naturally, supervisors preferred dependable employees.
At least…
That was how it looked.
One afternoon, Nora leaned against Elena's desk while she sorted incoming
mail.
"You're in Greg's office a lot these days."
Elena smiled tiredly.
"He keeps giving me extra assignments."
"Do you mind?"
She thought about it.
"Not really."
"It's just… strange."
"Strange how?"
"He could ask anyone."
Nora shrugged.
"Maybe he thinks you're the most responsible."
"Maybe."
Elena accepted the explanation.
She wanted to believe it.
After everything life had taken from her…
She wanted this place to remain simple.
Safe.
Normal.
She didn't notice Greg watching the conversation through the glass wall of
his office.
Nor did she notice the faint smile that touched his lips when Nora
eventually walked away.
He had learned something important.
Elena was trusting.
And trusting people…
Were always the easiest to corner.
The following Friday arrived wrapped in warm sunshine.
Payday.
The mood inside the publishing house was noticeably lighter.
Editors who usually buried themselves in deadlines lingered over coffee.
Someone had brought pastries. Even the usually overworked accounting staff
looked less exhausted.
At precisely noon, salary notifications began appearing on everyone's
phones.
A chorus of message alerts echoed across the office.
Nora gasped dramatically.
"It finally came!"
Daniel looked up from his computer.
"About time. My landlord was starting to think I enjoyed being
homeless."
Laughter rippled through the department.
Elena hesitated before unlocking her phone.
For a second, she simply stared at the notification.
Salary Received.
It wasn't a large amount.
Not by any standard.
But it was the first money she had ever earned entirely through her own
effort.
No bargains.
No humiliation.
No impossible choices.
Just honest work.
Without realizing it, she smiled.
A genuine smile.
Nora caught it immediately.
"There she is."
"What?"
"That smile."
"You should wear it more often."
Elena shook her head, laughing softly.
"I was just thinking..."
"My mother would've been happy."
The laughter around the table faded.
Neither Nora nor Daniel spoke for a moment.
Daniel finally smiled.
"I think she'd be proud."
Elena lowered her eyes.
"So do I."
By the time she reached home, dusk had settled over the neighborhood.
She went straight to her tiny room.
The room hadn't changed.
The narrow bed.
The old wooden chair.
The little table beside the window.
Her mother's urn rested where she had left it.
Elena placed the flowers in a glass jar filled with water and set them
beside the urn.
Then she carefully laid her first salary envelope beneath it.
"I got paid today, Mom."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"It isn't much."
She smiled through moist eyes.
"But it's honest."
For a long while, she simply sat there.
Remembering.
A sharp knock shattered the silence.
Without waiting for permission, Victoria pushed the door open.
Her eyes swept over the room before settling on the groceries stacked neatly
in one corner.
"So."
"You've been paid."
Elena stood.
"Yes."
Victoria folded her arms.
"I suppose that means you'll start contributing."
Elena frowned slightly.
"Contributing?"
"This isn't a charity."
Victoria glanced around the tiny room.
"You live under this roof."
"You eat the food."
"You use electricity."
"I assume you're old enough to understand that nothing is free."
Elena remained calm.
"How much?"
Victoria named an amount.
It was nearly half of Elena's monthly salary.
For a moment, Elena simply stared at her.
"Half?"
Victoria didn't blink.
"If that's too much..."
She smiled thinly.
"...there's still the widower."
Silence settled between them.
At the doorway, Richard appeared, having heard the conversation.
His gaze flickered toward Elena.
Then to Victoria.
He opened his mouth.
Closed it again.
Victoria looked at him expectantly.
He said nothing.
Elena noticed.
She always noticed.
Without another word, she walked to her bag, counted out the money, and
placed it on the small table.
Victoria picked it up without so much as a thank you.
"Good."
"Perhaps responsibility suits you after all."
She turned and walked away.
Richard lingered for only a second.
His eyes met Elena's.
There was something there.
Regret.
Apology.
But, as always...
Neither became words.
He quietly followed his wife.
The door closed.
Elena looked at the money she had left.
It wasn't enough.
Not if she wanted to save.
Not if she wanted to leave.
Slowly, she looked around the tiny storage room.
The cracked walls.
The single window.
The narrow bed.
For the first time...
A thought settled firmly in her mind.
She wasn't going to spend the rest of her life here.
Somehow...
She would find a way out.
- Writer
