Chapter 2
I didn't even look back as I hailed a cab and headed straight to my apartment.
On the way, my phone buzzed with a notification. It was a message from Katie.
Katie: [Sorry, Rachel. Mr. Lee told me to fully cooperate with his arrangements, and he forced his way in. I really couldn't do anything about it. You should understand. After all, Mr. Lee makes all the decisions.
[But honestly, you really went too far this time. He's your dad. How could you say those hurtful things to him?]
Reading her message, which seemed polite but was actually passive-aggressive and smug underneath, I took a screenshot and deleted it.
Not long after, my dad called.
He said, "It's not Katie's fault she didn't get much education. Her father couldn't afford to send her to school, so she had to drop out and help support the family.
"You've never had to deal with anything like that. Can't you make a little sacrifice for once? Don't you have any compassion?"
After finally calming down, I sneered, "Just once?
"Dad, did you forget? Since high school, you cut off my living expenses, all under the pretense of letting me 'experience life early' so I wouldn't grow up spoiled.
"After I joined the company, you took away the car I worked so hard to buy, forced me to bike three hours to work every day, saying it was for my health.
"For three years, rain or shine, I've been picking up and dropping off Katie.
"Even though I'm way more capable than her, you keep rejecting every promotion I apply for, and only pay me one thousand dollars a month."
He'd been using double standards over and over, and I'd swallowed it all until now. But suddenly I was the one accused of not caring about the bigger picture.
"Why don't you just adopt her already? Save yourself the trouble of hiding it," I said.
Before my dad could say another word, I hung up.
Back in my rental, which was less than 200 square feet, I started getting my materials together.
My computer was packed with Katie's "brilliant" project plans.
Every single one had traces of my own work in it.
I remember the first time I crafted a proposal. I spent a whole week digging through research, finally settling on the plan.
But my dad criticized it harshly, saying it was useless.
The very next day, Katie turned in a proposal almost identical to mine, just with a few minor tweaks. And my dad went on and on about how amazing it was.
When I called him out, he shrugged and said, "You're my daughter, so I have to hold you to a higher standard."
As I was about to hit send on the email, my hand paused, almost against my will.
The first email I ever got after joining the company was from my dad. [To my precious daughter, I hope you grow here and make me proud.]
But I'd been slogging away here for three years.
My phone lit up with a message from the company group chat. My dad had just posted an announcement, publicly scolding me and then cutting all my bonuses for the entire next year.
He typed, [Let this punishment be a lesson to you. Take some time to reflect and make sure you don't repeat your mistakes.]
I stared at that line of text in the email.
Back in elementary school, when my teacher criticized me for being mischievous in the group chat, my dad was the first to defend me.
He was so worried I'd be upset that he even abruptly ended an international meeting, just to come home, gently stroke my hair, and reassure me that everything was okay.
But now, for Katie, he's piling all the criticism on me.
[Whatever,] I replied.
Without a second thought, I put the email straight to the trash and deleted it permanently.
*****
As soon as I got to work the next day, I submitted my resignation.
But when it was up to my dad to approve it, he kept stalling and wouldn't sign off.
When the HR at my new company asked about my start date, I had no choice but to call my dad. But when I tried, I realized he'd already blocked my number.
Left with no other option, I headed straight to the CEO's office to find him.
Unexpectedly, I walked in to find Katie using my dad's computer like she owned the place.
On the desk, the photo of me and my dad had somehow been swapped out for a team picture from the last project celebration.
In the photo, my dad stood right in the middle, grinning with pride, his arm around Katie's shoulders as he flashed a peace sign.
I looked away. "Who gave you permission to touch my dad's computer?"
Katie didn't even look up. "As the project manager, Mr. Lee gave me top-level access to everything in the company."
I was taken aback.
This level of access was reserved for my dad alone. When I first took over the project, I tried to request temporary access, but he refused, claiming it was confidential company information.
My voice was shaky. "That computer holds confidential company information."
With my dad out of the office, Katie didn't bother to put on an act. She glanced at me. "Since when does a receptionist get to tell me what to do? Rachel, don't get in my way."
I watched as she started transferring everything from my dad's computer, and for a moment, part of me wanted to just let it go.
But those files held information that could decide the company's fate.
I confronted her, grabbing her wrist. "Even if you have top-level access, you can't copy these files without authorization."
"If you think you're so special, why don't you get Mr. Lee to give you top access too?" she sneered.
She shoved me hard, and my lower back slammed into the corner of the desk. I doubled over, clutching my side, breaking out in a cold sweat.
"You can't beat me when it comes to projects, and you can't win over your dad either," she went on. "Mr. Lee said the next project is also mine, so thanks for making it all so easy for me."
Unable to hold back any longer, I raised my hand, about to slap Katie right across the face.
But at that exact moment, my dad walked in, catching the whole scene.