At 10 a.m., David Ross called for an all-hands meeting.
Everyone gathered in the office corridor, their faces relieved as though they had just survived a disaster.
David strode onto the small stage, beaming, microphone in hand.
He gave a rousing speech describing the severity of the crisis—then dramatically turned the tone.
“But! We pulled through!” he said, throwing his arm wide.
“And what did we rely on? Our unbreakable team spirit!”
He clicked the remote, and a giant photo appeared on the screen behind him.
In the photo, everyone but the three of us sat together, holding up boxes of mac and cheese, smiling like it was a party.
In the background was a banner Vivian had hung: “Go team! We’re the best!”
“At the most critical moment, it was our management trainee, Vivian,” David said, turning his approving gaze toward her.
“She didn’t panic—she thought about how to steady morale and keep everyone going!”
“One little box of mac and cheese warmed everyone’s stomach and brought their hearts together!”
“And that,” David concluded, “is what we call team spirit!”
His gaze swept over the room and finally landed on me—cold and probing, like a needle.