Chapter 8
I looked down at the list in my hand.
These lines were the foundation for all the beautiful things she'd said on stage today.
But she said they were overwhelming.
Footsteps echoed from outside the door.
Emily walked in with a few executives.
She was followed by the head of Administration and the head of the Brand Department.
When she saw me, Emily's brows immediately furrowed.
"Why are you still here?" she asked.
Before I could say anything, Vivian spoke up softly, "Emily, maybe Evelyn can't bear to leave this place."
Emily walked over to her and gently patted her arm. "You're not feeling well, so don't stand too long.
"Evelyn, Charles told me what happened today. The process changes are a company decision. As a senior employee, you should know how to go along with it." She turned to me.
Senior employee.
I chewed on that label.
From Co-Founder, to Technical Advisor, and now a senior employee.
In one day, my identity at Cloudspire Technologies had been stripped away, layer by layer.
The head of Administration kept his head down, pretending to read some documents.
The executives exchanged glances, but no one said a word.
Emily went on, "You're supposed to focus on the tech side of things. Vivian is the one who's better at handling public appearances, networking, and keeping the investors happy.
"Stop thinking everyone's trying to take something from you."
I looked at her. "I built this lab."
"Cloudspire Technologies is Charles's company," Emily said, her tone turning icy. "Without him, do you think someone who writes code would ever have these opportunities?"
The air went still for a moment.
Vivian spoke up softly, "Emily, please don't say that. Evelyn has done a lot for the company, too."
Emily glanced at her, her gaze softening. "You're too kind."
I suddenly felt drained.
It wasn't my body that was tired.
It was the kind of emptiness that comes from being chipped away, year after year. Until all that's left inside was a hollow echo.
I bent down and fished out the last few crumpled papers from the trash can.
There were three testing reports in there.
One was an error log printout.
And another was the shift schedule I'd put together for the R&D team.
My handwriting was on every single page.
[3 AM: Retest Module C.]
[4:30 AM: Restart prototype.]
[7 AM: Sync demo results with Charles.]
The words were all crumpled up, looking like broken strands of thread.
I smoothed them out one by one.
Emily frowned, "Why are you rummaging through the trash? What kind of impression would that give the investors if they saw you?"
I ignored her.
Footsteps sounded at the door again.
Charles walked in.
He must have hurried over. His tie was hanging loose, and he looked completely worn out.
When he saw Vivian's eyes were red, he went straight to her side. "What's wrong?"
Vivian shook her head. "It's nothing. Evelyn came to pick up some documents."
Only then did Charles turn to look at me.
His eyes went from the papers in my hand to the trash can next to me.
"Put those down," he said.
I stayed where I was.
He didn't ask why I was standing at my cleared-out workstation.
He didn't ask why my access card no longer worked.
He didn't ask why my old badge was tossed by the trash, covered by a paper cup.
He told me to put the papers down.
"Don't let the investors laugh at us," he said.
I slowly straightened up. "Charles."
His brow twitched.
"You cleared out my office, disabled my access card, and took my name off everything. Tell me, Charles. Was any of that supposed to be temporary?" I asked.
The lab went quiet.
Vivian's fingers tightened around her sleeve.
Emily's face turned grim.
Charles looked at me, his Adam's apple bobbing.
Two seconds later, he grabbed a file from his assistant.
A crisp white cover.
The Cloudspire Technologies logo sat coldly in the top right corner.
He held it out to me.
His voice dropped lower than before. "Evelyn, you've been on edge lately."
I didn't take it.
He paused. "Just sign the leave form for now."
I looked down at the leave form.
The cover was bright white, as if it had been spit out by the printer, the edges still curling up a bit.
My name was already typed in the applicant section: Evelyn Shaw.
The reason for the leave was already filled in for me. [Needs to recover physically and mentally.]
Those words were etched into my vision, and my fingers grew colder with every word.
Charles handed me the pen. "Just sign it."
His voice was barely above a whisper as if he were afraid of disturbing something.
But the whole lab was watching me.