After Calling Me Old Crow, He Fell Hard

The first time I really heard the words "old crow" was during the company's Monday morning meeting.

Sadie Laurent kept her eyes down as I scolded her, a teardrop glistening at the corner of her lashes. And during the short break, someone muttered under their breath, "She really is an old crow—always picking on the young and pretty ones."

For a moment, my thoughts froze.

That single line stirred up a storm. Whispers rippled across the room, each one sharper than the last.

"She's just throwing her weight around—bossing people for no reason."

"Thirty-two, and still clinging to an eight-year relationship that's going nowhere. Talk about persistent."

I set my cup down, and the room went dead silent. Countless eyes turned to me, as if I were the one who'd done something wrong.

Sadie dabbed her reddened eyes with a tissue. "Ms. Stone, I'll double-check the data again."

"Not double-check—redoing," I said, forcing my voice to stay cold despite the sting in my chest. "Before tomorrow's morning briefing, I want a precise analysis report and a recovery plan on my desk."

At that, I swept my gaze over her, then the rest of the room. "Meeting adjourned."

I stood and walked out first. Behind me, the murmurs rose again like a rising tide—this time, louder and bolder.

"Pompous bitch. She's only got that director's seat because of Mr. Pryor."

"The old crow's on a rampage again. Guess menopause came early."

Back in my office, my computer pinged with a new internal email. The subject line read in bold. 'Suggestions for Improving Management Communication and Supporting Employee Mental Health'

It was sent from the HR director, but I knew whose hand was really behind it. Sadie's tears, once again, carried more weight than my performance report ever could.

I let out a bitter laugh and closed the page. Then Jace Pryor's extension rang through. His voice was calm, lazy—almost soothing. "Elara, you sure lost your temper in that meeting. You made the girl cry. Sadie's young and inexperienced. Mistakes happen. Try to go easy on her, okay?"

In the background, I could hear faint sniffles through the line. I swallowed my irritation, keeping my tone even. "Sadie's data errors were serious. They directly affected this quarter's financial report."

"Well, mistakes happen," he said lightly. "Sadie's not been feeling well—bad timing with her cycle. Cut her some slack. Anyway, dinner tonight? I booked a table at that new Japanese place."

After work, I climbed into Jace's familiar black sports car. The tension in my face finally eased a little.

"She's just a kid who doesn't know better," he coaxed, his voice almost pleading. "Teach her, for my sake, alright?"

I let it go and didn't press the matter further.

When we entered the private room, Sadie was already there—long hair loose, makeup flawless. The moment she saw us, she rose to her feet.