"President Schmidt, please don't blame Sir Harold... maybe I said something wrong that upset him..."
The sight of his fake humility only fueled Darlene's anger.
"Harold, I gave you a chance. You're the one who didn't value it."
"Now pack your things and get out of this company—immediately!"
I bent down, picked up the shattered photo from the floor, and placed the last of my belongings into my bag.
My silence and composure caught them both off guard.
They probably expected me to get mad, to argue, to lose control.
But I didn't.
I zipped up my backpack and walked straight to the door.
When I passed by Darlene, I stopped. Turning slightly, I met her eyes and said evenly, "President Schmidt, remember what you said today."
"I hope you won't regret it."
"And I hope Lester... really is as 'capable' as he pretends to be."
Darlene's brow creased, as if she wanted to retort, but I didn't give her the chance. I turned and walked away, without looking back.
There was nothing here worth holding onto anymore.
...
When I got home, my mother—just discharged from the hospital—was resting on the sofa.
Seeing me back so early, and the heaviness on my face, she immediately grew concerned.