Chapter 1

I've been at Apex Industries for fifteen years.

Started out as a technician, and fifteen years later, I'm still just a technician.

Yep, not a single promotion.

I've got three core patents under my belt, worth tens of millions, and everyone in the company knows it.

But my name? Nowhere to be found on the inventor list.

Last Friday, HR called me in. "Jessica, the company's restructuring, and you're on the list."

On the same day, the Tech Department made an announcement.

Lily Hayes was promoted to Technical Director.

She was 32, and had only been with the company for three years.

I was the one who brought her into the industry, teaching her how to use DraftPro step by step.

Now she was sitting right next to me, smiling sweetly.

"Jessica, at your age, it's tough to find another job. Want me to ask around if there's any janitor gigs available?"

I didn't say a word.

I just kept my head down and signed the resignation form.

At two in the afternoon on Friday, a message from HR popped up on my screen.

[Jessica, conference room at three. We need to talk.]

I looked at the message, not surprised in the slightest.

The restructuring list had been circulating for half a month now. Every day, someone got called into that conference room. They went in as a regular employee, and came out ready to start the handover.

I saved the test report I was working on, and while I was at it, backed up a few recent documents to my personal cloud drive.

Backing up files like this? Been my routine for fifteen years.

Five minutes before three, I knocked and walked in.

Daniel Lane, the HR Director, was sitting at one end of the long table, with Lily sitting across from him.

"Jessica, you're here. Have a seat," Daniel said, pointing to the chair next to Lily.

I sat down.

Lily gave me that gentle, considerate smile.

"Jessica, let me explain," Daniel said, flipping open the folder in front of him. "The company is going through an organizational restructuring this year, and the Tech Department has its own quotas. After weighing all the factors..."

He paused, clearly choosing his words carefully.

Lily picked up where he left off. "Jessica, you know how tough things are right now. The company needs to cut costs and boost efficiency. You've been with us for a long time, and we appreciate all your hard work, but..."

She let out a sigh. "The Tech Department needs people who can take on tough challenges. The leadership thinks your position is up for adjustment."

People who can take on tough challenges.

I couldn't help but echo those words in my head.

Fifteen years how many real battles have I fought?

Back in 2014, when the product line was revamped, I spent two months working late nights to develop the core algorithm. When the credits were listed, the Technical Director's name was at the top, and mine was buried in third place.

In 2018, the new production line went live, and it was my process improvement plan that pushed the yield from 70% up to 95%. The Production Manager walked away with the Employee of the Year trophy, and all I got was a 200-dollar shopping card.

Then in 2020, during the automation upgrade, I was running between the hospital and the office, trying to finish the plan while my husband was sick.

After he passed, I wrapped up his funeral in five days, then spent three sleepless nights at work to finally crack that last algorithm.

When the plan was submitted, the credit line had my old supervisor's name on it.

Back then, I just thought whatever.

I still had a son to raise, and I couldn't afford to lose my job.

Now, sitting across from me was a young woman who, just three years ago, didn't even know how to use DraftPro—and now she's telling me I'm not cut out for the real battles.

"Jessica?" Lily's voice pulled me back. "Did you catch all that? Want me to run through it again?"

"Yeah, I got it," I replied.

"That's good," she said, letting out a relieved sigh. "Honestly, I really wish you could stay. You've helped me so much these past few years. But it's the company's decision, and there's nothing I can do."

She pulled an envelope out of her bag and slid it across the table to me.

"This is your severance package. Take a look, Jessica. If everything looks good, just sign it, and we'll start the transition next week."

I picked up the envelope, opened it, and pulled out the documents inside.

The severance amount was written on the second page.

Fifteen years on the job, so the severance is calculated as N+1.

It was barely enough to pay for two years of my son's tuition.

"Daniel," I said.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"I've got a few things I want to confirm," I said.

Daniel's smile faltered for a moment. "What do you want to know?"

"First, how does the company plan to enforce the non-compete clause in this agreement?" I asked.

"Non-compete?" Daniel replied, flipping through the documents. "It's just a standard clause. Sign it, and the company won't actually stop you from finding another job."

"So, there's no non-compete compensation, then?" I pressed.

"Jessica, you're overthinking it. It's just a formality," Daniel said.

"Alright." I nodded. "Second question—I want to check how my name appears on the patents I worked on."

The conference room went quiet for a couple of seconds.

Lily's face shifted for a moment.

But just for a split second—then she was smiling again. "Jessica, does this really have anything to do with your resignation?"

"It does," I said. "I want to see the records of who was listed as inventor and any changes made. Is it possible to get a copy?"

Daniel hesitated, then looked over at Lily.

Lily kept her smile, but the warmth in her eyes was gone.

"Jessica, patents are managed by the Tech Department. I'll see what I can do, but you know, those records aren't exactly easy to access," she said.

"Thanks for your help, Ms. Hayes," I said.

She just stayed silent.

Daniel cleared his throat. "Alright, Jessica, take the agreement home and look it over. If you have any questions, just let me know."

I stood up and slipped the envelope into my bag.

"Oh, by the way," Lily called out just as I was about to leave.

I turned around.

She cocked her head, still smiling sweetly. "Jessica, you know, it's not easy to find work at your age. Should I see if there's any cleaning jobs open for you?"

There was no one else in the conference room—Daniel was already looking down at his phone.

I just looked at her, saying nothing.

She thought I was upset, so she grinned even wider. "Just messing with you, Jessica. Don't take it personally. If you ever need anything, just say the word. Hey, we've been colleagues for three years."

"Thanks, Ms. Hayes," I said. "But I'm good."

As I walked out of the conference room, I heard laughter and chatter behind me.

Lily was talking to Daniel.

"Fifteen years and that's all she can do? Unbelievable..." she said.

"Just wrap this up, don't let it slow down your promotion..." Daniel replied.

I didn't look back.

Back at my desk, I started packing up my things.

There wasn't much—just a water bottle, a photo album from my son when he was a kid, and a few pens.

And at the very bottom of the drawer, three old USB drives.

The cases on all three were scuffed and scratched.

One I'd been using since 2011, filled with my earliest project files. Another I switched to in 2017, holding all the files from the middle years. And the last one, brand new last year, just for the backups from the past three years.

I slipped them all into my bag.

At five, a company-wide announcement popped up on the intranet.

[After careful consideration by the company's management, Ms. Lily Hayes has been appointed as Technical Director, effective immediately.]

Below the announcement was a photo of Lily, looking absolutely stunning.

The comments section blew up in no time.

[Congrats, Ms. Hayes!]

[Lily, you're amazing!]

[She's the pride of the Tech Department!]

I closed the page and slung my bag over my shoulder.

By the time I walked out of the company, it was already dark.

My phone buzzed.

It was a text message.

[Group Announcement: Apex Industries will have a routine audit next Monday. All departments, make sure you're ready to cooperate.]

I stared at the message, standing there in the night breeze for a long time.

Then I slipped my phone back into my pocket and headed for the bus stop.

When I got home, my son, Ethan Chase, was already in the kitchen, cooking.

The roaster was steaming, and he was stir-frying some chicken wings on the stove. He was just seventeen, wearing an apron—his movements a little clumsy, but he was totally focused.

"Mom, you're home early today," he said, glancing back at me. "Dinner's almost ready."

"Okay."

I set my bag down and sat on the couch.

Ethan came out with the dishes and glanced at me. "Mom, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying," he said, setting the dishes down and sitting across from me. "Mom, did something happen at work?"

I paused for a moment, falling silent.

"They're restructuring," I said. "I'm on the list."

Ethan froze.

"W-What do you mean?"

"I got laid off."

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"It's fine," I said. "I'm getting severance. It's enough to pay your tuition for the next two years."

"Mom!" Ethan suddenly raised his voice. "You've been there for fifteen years! How could they just..."

"Enough," I cut him off. "Let's eat."

Ethan went quiet, but I could see the veins standing out on the back of his hand.

He's got a quick temper, just like his dad.

After dinner, Ethan went to wash the dishes, and I sat in the living room, plugging in those three USB drives.

As I clicked through the folders, it was like flipping through a fifteen-year diary.

2011 was my first year at Apex Industries.

Back then, the company was still small, and the Tech Department only had five people. I was the only woman, the least qualified, and the lowest paid.

But I was eager to learn. After finishing my work during the day, I'd go home and teach myself programming, read up on patents, and struggle through research papers.

Ethan was just two years old at the time, and his dad was always out on business trips. I'd be rocking Ethan to sleep while trying to study, often burning the midnight oil.

The first project I ever got involved in was revamping an old production line with automation.

I wrote the plan, drew up the blueprints, and even got down on my hands and knees under the machines to trace the wiring during troubleshooting.

When the project was finally reviewed, the boss singled out the Technical Director for praise in front of everyone.

The Technical Director stood up, grinning, and said, "It was really a team effort."

On the plan, my name was all the way at the bottom.

Back then, I just thought I just started out, not much seniority, so of course my name was at the bottom.

In 2014, Apex Industries revamped its product line.

I spent two months working late nights, building the core algorithm from scratch—the heart of the upgrade. Every line, I wrote myself.