Part 4 — Returning from work, I found my nameplate in the trash bin, while my boss’s smile suddenly disappeared

At Aiza’s last words, Gareth lost his color for the first time.

“That is impossible,” he said.

The phone almost fell from his hand.

Then three calls came in one after another. From the bank. From the main investor. From the chairman of the company’s board.

Gareth answered none of them.

“What did you do?” he asked me.

“I only did what should have been done from the beginning,” I answered. “I kept everything in writing.”

Someone knocked on the door.

The woman who entered introduced herself as an independent auditor. Beside her stood a representative of the investigative service.

Gareth stepped back.

“This is a private meeting.”

“Not anymore,” the woman said. “Temporary restrictions have been placed on your accounts. We need the accounting archive, correspondence, and access to the security recordings.”

Troy pushed his chair back so quickly that it left a mark on the floor.

“I did nothing wrong,” he said.

“Your signature is on several transfers,” the auditor replied.

Philip looked at Gareth.

“You told me everything was happening legally.”

Gareth turned toward him.

“Now is not the time.”

“This is exactly the time,” Philip said.

Gareth picked up the phone and called a lawyer.

“I need you to come here. Immediately.”

The lawyer listened for several seconds. Gareth’s face fell even more.

“What do you mean, you no longer represent me?” he asked.

Everyone in the room fell silent.

The lawyer’s voice could be clearly heard from the phone, because Gareth’s hand trembled and the speaker accidentally turned on.

“I cannot defend a person who deliberately concealed transfers of money from clients’ accounts from me and sent false letters in an employee’s name.”

Gareth ended the call.

His own words, however, continued to be heard in the recording remaining on the wall.

“When she returns, she will have no choice.”

Meredith played the audio from the beginning again.

Gareth watched himself, standing in the stairwell several months earlier and calmly planning my expulsion. The voice that had seemed like power then now sounded like an admission of greed.

“I didn’t say it like that,” he whispered.

“That is your voice,” Dean said.

Gareth looked at him.

“Are you against me too?”

For the first time, Dean directly withstood his gaze.

“I kept silent because of you. That was my mistake.”

It was his only admission, but it was enough.

That same day, the board temporarily removed Gareth from his position. Troy and Philip were questioned as part of the investigation. Lynette gave a written statement and admitted how they had forced employees to hide the change of position from me.

I did not shout in court.

Nor was I happy about Gareth’s destruction.

I only wanted them to return control of my life to me.

Two weeks later, I found my old office empty. The desk was gone. Only straight strips of dust were visible on the shelves. And in the corner I found the plant that Lynette had put in the box. A new leaf had appeared.

I hung the diploma on the wall.

I did not take back the nameplate.

My mother brought it home. Under the nameplate I placed the small copper bell that had been tied to Elena’s bag that morning. When the wind shook the window, the bell rang lightly.

Three months later, I started working in another city, at a small financial consulting company. My office looked onto a sunny street. In the morning I met clients, and at midday I picked Elena up from kindergarten.

In the very first week, my boss asked me:

“What hours are convenient for you?”

For several seconds I could not answer. I no longer remembered such a question.

“Ones that work for both of us,” I told him.

In the evening, Elena sat on the floor and drew a house on a yellow sheet of paper. The house had a large door, and golden lines came out of the windows.

“Is this our house?” I asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “Here nobody throws us out.”

A lump caught in my throat.

“Nobody will throw us out.”

The first snow came at the end of December. It muffled the street noise and left a white strip on the windowsill. Elena drew circles on the glass with her little hands, while I put the kettle on in the kitchen.

That evening I received a message from Gareth.

“Everything is over. Come, let’s talk. I can give you your old position back.”

A second message came a few minutes later.

“You also know that this company needs someone like you.”

I looked at the screen for a long time.

At one time, I would have thought about words like these all night. I would have blamed myself. I would have asked whether everything could have happened differently.

Now I heard only Elena’s laughter.

I put the phone down.

“I will not return,” I replied.

Then I deleted the message.

I did not need to defeat him. I no longer needed his recognition. He was already living with the consequences of the decisions he had made without me.

Even years later, I remember that first morning: the trash bin, the empty wall, the dried-out plant, and the sound of the small copper bell on Elena’s bag.

That day I thought that work had thrown my name away.

In reality, for the first time I understood that my name had never belonged to them.

The bell was still ringing by the window when Elena attached her drawing to the wall.

I locked the door.

And this time, the key was in my hand.