The water ran down my face

Then the doorbell rang.

A house employee opened the door, and several sharply dressed individuals stepped inside. They carried briefcases and folders thick with documents. I recognized them immediately as members of the company’s legal department.

They walked straight into the dining room.

“Good evening,” the lead attorney said politely. “We’re here on behalf of the board.”

He began handing out envelopes.

Diane opened hers first. As she scanned the contents, the color slowly drained from her face.

Brendan looked from the document to me and back again, disbelief creeping across his expression.

“What is this?” he demanded.

“Corporate restructuring notices,” the attorney replied calmly. “Effective immediately.”

Jessica stared at the papers as if they might disappear.

Diane’s hands started to tremble. “You can’t be serious,” she said.

I finally stood up from the table.

Water still dripped from the ends of my hair, but I no longer felt cold.

“For years,” I said quietly, “you assumed I had nothing. No influence. No options. No dignity.”