It had been one week at the Ravenscrofts global company.
One full week of endless calls that left my ears buzzing long after I hung up. One week of meetings where I sat across long glass tables
pretending I wasn't intimidated. One week of putting up with Loretta, who clearly hated my guts and didn't even try to hide it.
The way she corrected me in front of others. The way her lips pressed into that thin, satisfied line whenever I stumbled.
And yet… somehow, I had adjusted.
I don't know when it happened. Maybe between the third meeting and the twentieth call. Maybe the moment I stopped apologizing before speaking.
This morning, when I looked in the mirror, I felt… proud. Tired, yes, but stronger. Steadier. Like I could survive this world.
Tonight was just like most evenings lately: I would meet Aaron after work. Something soft to land on after long, exhausting days.
At six, I texted him: Pick me up by 7:00. Simple. Easy. Safe.
