That week, I stared at the folders on my kitchen table. Part of me wanted to prove my reliability one last time. Another part knew I owed them nothing. After a long pause, I made my choice. I didn’t open a single file. Instead, I updated my résumé, contacted old connections, and prepared for what came next.
His daughter smiled and replied, “That’s fine. I already finished them.” In that moment, everything shifted. There was no argument, only clarity. I wished them well and walked out lighter than I’d arrived. Days later, I started a new job where my experience mattered. Losing that role wasn’t the end—it was the quiet beginning of something better.
