“Enough. Stop making a scene. If you’re not feeling well, take a few days off at the hospital. Don’t embarrass yourself here.”
“Sir,” I met his eyes without backing down, “my decision’s final.”
The atmosphere instantly went still.
Ross finally lost patience, his voice rising. “Enough! What more do you want? I was going to promote you sooner or later; why are you in such a hurry? Zamora’s our new director now. She’s capable and well-educated—a Ph.D. from a top university abroad. What do you have to compare with that?”
My fingertips went cold. It felt like the blood in my veins had drained backwards.
Every word he said cut deep, slicing through whatever trust I’d had left.
Apparently, in his eyes, everything I’d ever done all these years meant nothing.
Even my work, to him, was not assistance, but charity!
I almost laughed, but my throat felt dry and tight. “You’re right. I can’t compare.”
“So,” I added quickly, “I quit.”
I flung the resignation paper at his face. The paper sliced through the air with a sharp, piercing sound.
I didn’t spare his ashen face another glance as I turned to leave.
I’d barely taken a few steps when the sharp click of high heels came rushing up behind me.