Chapter 8
When I walked into the office the next morning, I could immediately tell something was off.
The way my colleagues looked at me had changed. There was a new wariness in their eyes, a flicker of something that felt uncomfortably like judgment.
As I made my way toward my desk, a few female coworkers who had been whispering among themselves stopped the second they saw me. Without a word, they scattered back to their own seats.
I kept my face blank and sat down. After powering on my laptop and logging into the system, I found that the internal messaging platform had already exploded overnight.
The original post had been forwarded to the company's anonymous chat group.
The anonymous group chat was already in full swing.
[No way. Isn't that Sarah from our office? I seriously did not see this coming.]
[And the guy in the picture, isn't that Mr. Hale, the president of our division? So are they... involved?]
[No wonder she landed a spot on that major project right after she started. Turns out she had some help behind the scenes.]
[Isn't this basically a workplace sexual suggestion? It just looks off.]
Rumors spread like a virus, and soon I had become their favorite label for everything from a scheming woman to someone with a scandalous private life.
Around ten in the morning, the director, Helen Foster, called me into her office.
She looked terrible. "Sarah, have you seen that post on the forum?"
"I have."
"So what the hell is going on? That photo is clearly you and Mr. Hale."
It was just normal work. Someone grabbed the shot on purpose and twisted it."
"Well, right now the whole office is talking. The damage to you, to Mr. Hale, and to the reputation of our entire M&A project is truly serious."
She paused, and I could hear the exhaustion and frustration seeping through her voice. "Headquarters already knows, and they're taking a very hard line. Sarah, to get this scandal under control, the company has decided to pull you off this project entirely."
Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water poured from head to toe.
I had been with this project since its very first proposal, and no one but me knew how many sleepless nights and overtime hours I had put into it.
Yet now, because of nothing more than an anonymous smear post, all of that effort had been wiped out in one stroke.
"Helen," I said, "that post is defamation. I can file a police report and pursue legal action."
"Legal proceedings take time and evidence, and the company simply doesn't have that kind of time. The final review for this project is next week. We cannot afford a single misstep."
"So the only solution is to toss me overboard?"
Helen said nothing, which I took as her answer.
I stared at her but found myself at a loss for words.
This was how corporate rules worked. No one actually cared about the truth. They only cared about risk and the bottom line.
When I stepped out of the director's office, I packed my personal belongings into a cardboard box and walked out the company's front door under the bewildered stares of my colleagues.
Standing at the busy intersection, surrounded by the glaring lights of towering office buildings and the ceaseless flow of hurried pedestrians, I truly felt, for the first time, a bone-chilling coldness and a profound sense of isolation.
This time, I had lost completely, without a shred of mercy or room to turn back.
I locked myself in my rented apartment for the rest of the day and never once stepped outside.
I didn't turn on the lights or pull open the curtains. Instead, I just sat in the darkness, letting my phone buzz on and off beside me.
Some of the calls were from Charles, some from my lawyer, and the rest came from numbers I didn't recognize, most likely strangers who had seen the post and wanted a bit of entertainment at my expense.
I didn't answer a single one. I sat there like a marionette whose strings had been cut, barely shifting my posture at all.
I had told myself I could take it, that I could tough it out on my own, but as it turned out, I had seriously overestimated my own limits.
Bertha had played her hand masterfully. She knew exactly what I valued most, and that was the very spot she went after with full force.
She wasn't trying to make me back down. She wanted to crush me completely.
As the light outside faded bit by bit, the room seemed to sink into even deeper gloom.
Then my phone screen lit up with a message, not from Charles this time, but from an unfamiliar number.
[David Clark.]
The name rang a bell. He was Charles' colleague, the one competing against him for the position of deputy director of surgery.
Charles had mentioned him once, describing a man who was anything but straightforward, someone who played games behind the scenes.
So why was he contacting me?
I hesitated for only a few seconds before typing back a brief reply.
The phone buzzed again, and a new message appeared on the screen.
The phone buzzed again, and a new message appeared on the screen. [Ms. Hughes, this is David. I work with Charles.]
[What do you want?]
[I saw the post on the forum. I can only imagine what you must be feeling right now. None of it's true, is it?]
I didn't respond right away.
He went on. [You're probably furious at Charles. And at his mother, after the way she's been acting. Have you ever thought about making them pay a price for all of this?]
The words landed like a snake tasting the air, cold, smooth, and quietly tempting.
I asked: [What exactly are you trying to say?]
[Charles isn't nearly as clean as he pretends to be. The things he's done behind the scenes to get where he is now? Those are things only someone on the inside would know.]
My heart started pounding in my chest. [Just tell me what you want.]
[I can work with you. I have dirt on him, enough to ruin his reputation. All I need is for you to be on my side.]
[Work with you? Why should I trust you?]
[A common enemy is all it takes to make allies. Don't you think? You're not stupid, Ms. Hughes. You know how to make the right choice.]
A location pin came through with his next message. [Tomorrow at seven. This coffee shop. I'll be there. Whether you come or not is up to you.]