Chapter 4
Monday's project meeting lasted forty minutes.
Carter announced that Chloe would be taking over the core proposal I had been leading.
The conference room was dead silent.
He asked if I had any objections.
"None," I replied calmly.
For the rest of the afternoon, I compiled three years of project files and handed them to Chloe myself.
She took them with a smile. "Thanks, Grace."
I nodded, went back to my desk, slid a voice recorder behind my pen holder, and pressed record.
Four days after Chloe took over, the core database crashed.
The client sent a formal complaint letter that night. I counted the zeroes in the damage claim three times.
Carter called me into his office.
His tie was loosened, and sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Go handle the client."
"Carter, this isn't my project anymore."
"But you know the workflow."
"Chloe knows it too. You're the one who handed it to her."
He slammed his hand on the desk.
"Do you not understand the situation we're in?"
Oh, I understood perfectly.
The recorder had been running for this exact moment.
Every single instance of Chloe's incompetent directions, every mistaken phone call over the past four days, was saved.
"You want me to take the fall?"
He didn't speak. Silence was an admission.
I stood up.
"Fine, I'll handle it."
He leaned back in his chair, his shoulders visibly relaxing.
I left his office, but I didn't go to the client.
I opened my phone and went to our company's WhatsApp group.
Two hundred and thirty-seven people.
I dragged the compiled files into the chat---recordings, screenshots, and the original client communication logs.
Every file was labeled with a timestamp and the name of the person responsible.
My finger hovered over the send button.
A second later, I pressed it.
Almost every phone on the floor buzzed at the same time.
The group chat fell silent for a few seconds, and then notifications exploded.
People were tagging Carter, tagging Chloe, while others just sent strings of ellipses.
Chloe jumped up from her seat, frantically tapping her screen.
She wanted to recall the files.
But with thirty-seven documents, the recall window had long passed.
By the time Carter rushed out of his office, I was already standing in the middle of the hallway holding two things.
One was my resignation letter.
The other was a joint resignation statement from the core team. Eight signatures, not a single one missing.
He stopped dead in front of me.
"Grace, have you lost your mind?"
"No."
I handed him the resignation letter.
He snatched it and tore it to shreds right in front of everyone in the hallway.
The paper ripped, and white scraps fluttered down onto the dark gray carpet.
"You think you can survive out there without this company?" His voice was cracked and raw.
"What about the client? What about the channels?"
The sound of dress shoes clicking on the tiles echoed from the end of the hallway.
The receptionist walked up, leading a man in a sharp suit.
The folder in his hand bore our major client's corporate logo.
In the bottom right corner was a bright red corporate stamp.
"Mr. Carter Hayes?"
"...Yes."
"This is a legal notice from our firm." The man's tone was strictly business.
"Since your core manager, Ms. Grace Sterling, has resigned, our client is officially terminating all cooperation under Section 17 of the contract."
"All follow-up matters will be handled directly with Ms. Sterling's new team."
Carter's hand trembled as he reached for the paper.
I turned and walked toward the elevator.
My heels clicked against the scattered scraps of paper on the floor, each step making a crisp sound.
The elevator doors slid open.
I stepped in and pressed the button for the garage.
In the last sliver of space before the doors closed, I saw Carter standing frozen, unable to move an inch.
The legal notice hung limply in his hand.
The resignation letter he had just torn up was being scattered around his feet by the draft in the hallway.
But the elevator doors in front of me had already shut completely.