The sharp crack echoed through the open office. Porcelain shards scattered everywhere.
The entire floor fell into dead silence.
All the whispers, all the snide remarks—vanished instantly.
Freddy's face flushed red, then pale. His lips trembled, but no words came out.
I swept a cold glance around. Everyone averted their eyes, pretending to focus on their screens, their hands moving mechanically across keyboards or shuffling papers that didn't need sorting.
Without a word, I turned away.
In that suffocating silence, I walked back to my private office, closed the door behind me, and began packing my things.
My fingers brushed over the worn photo frame on my desk.
Inside one was a group photo—our team’s first major success after completing the initial module testing.
Everyone in that picture had a genuine smile and light in their eyes.
Now, everything had changed.
The anger burning in my chest slowly gave way to a deeper, colder sorrow.
Nine years.
Nine whole years.
I had poured the best years of my life into this place.