He sat with his wife’s photo, waiting for a son who had already boarded without him

opportunities where my work won’t be treated as an afterthought.

The Board said nothing. But the truth had landed. We ended the call politely. But I knew what came next. Chaos. Blame shifting. Political scrambling.

I placed my phone down, letting the moment breathe—and it buzzed again. A text from Adrian.

If you’re free this afternoon, I’d like you to continue reading …