Chapter 3: The Stolen Win

- SIERRA

This morning, I was cowering over my desk, typing away on my keyboard, when I completed the compliance filings.

My back was stiff, and my eyes were blurring, but I did not stop. The only thing I mostly enjoyed and that never talked back was working. That's the only thing that made me forget the pain I endured all these years.

"Sierra? Desk 4. Now."

Nova didn't even look at me. She simply tapped on my partition and continued walking.

The conference room.

I exhaled, pulled on my blazer, and picked up a notepad. My heart was thumping at me irritatingly. I was walking to the glass doors leading to the main hall, and I saw myself briefly reflected in them. I looked tired. Not the kind of tired that comes when one does not sleep well, but the kind of tired that comes with long years of bearing a heavy burden.

The room was packed. The senior partners were present, all of them reclining in their costly leather chairs. Desmond was sitting at the head of the table. He was a keen-looking man—his suit was cut perfectly to the button. He was as cold as a stone, as though he had turned off all his feelings.

"Thanks, everyone, it was a pleasure to see you," Desmond began. His voice was rich and commanding, and it had made me melt before, but this time it was like a cold breeze. "The Solaris Initiative was our largest bet of the year, as you know. High-tech, high-risk. I am happy to tell you that the very first rollout has been a huge success. We are looking at a thirty percent profit margin in the first quarter itself."

A round of applause broke out. I got a little true sense of pride. I had worked six months on the Solaris project. I have been up until three in the morning mapping out the logistics and smoothing out the data. I had been the one to fix the glitch in the last blueprint.

Adjusting my glasses, I waited. I was about to rise, to take the smallest part of the credit that could make this week of hell worth it.

"And I want to do it right, I want to give credit where it is due," Desmond said, and his eyes grew softer as they never did for me. "Without some genius input at the last minute, this project would not have made it across the finish line. The innovative turnaround was what we wanted."

He turned and looked at the back of the room. "Vivian? Why don't you stand up?"

There was a beat of silence in the room, then the cheering was doubled. Vivian was sitting by the window, looking effortlessly beautiful in a silk dress. She smiled humbly, like an angel in the ocean of sharks.

"Desmond, I was only trying to make some suggestions," she hissed, and her voice was far too smooth to be natural. "Sierra did the heavy lifting."

"Do not humble yourself, Viv," said Desmond kindly. "Those suggestions rescued the whole thing. You have a big picture mindset."

I was like, I had been dipped in cold water. My blood not only ran cold, but it also froze in my veins. Her input? Vivian did not even know the password of the shared drive. She had not been in a boardroom in three years. She had been playing the returning martyr two weeks ago as I did the work.

I stared at Desmond, hoping to find something to laugh at. But he was gazing at Vivian with pure admiration.

The betrayal not only hurt, but it also ripped me open. I was sitting there, a silent shadow in a room full of people celebrating a thief. My own sister had only just taken three years of my life, and my husband had given it to her on a silver platter.

The meeting was adjourned. People were talking, patting Vivian on the back. "Brilliant, Viv! Absolutely brilliant!"

I couldn't breathe. The walls were enclosing me. I had to get out of there.

I crossed to the door and rushed back to my chair. I could not bring myself to look at a single face in that room.

That afternoon, I was just returning from the basement when Desmond's voice broke through the silence of the room. "In my office. Now."

He didn't wait for an answer. Instead, he turned his back and went away.

I walked behind him, with my lead-like legs. The moment the door closed behind me, the atmosphere was different. The "proud CEO" was gone. Instead, he was the one who had accused me of all his misfortunes in life.

"You just could not stop yourself, could you?" he sneezed, bending over his desk.

Confused, I blinked. "Desmond, were you talking of the Solaris credit—"

"It's the lunch, Sierra! Don't play dumb with me." He dropped a plastic container down on the mahogany. It was that salad I had prepared this morning. "Vivian is in the hospital now. Before she could take even the first bite, her throat tightened."

My heart plummeted. "What? Is she okay?"

"No, thanks to you," he spat. "The doctor claims it was a severe allergic reaction. Nuts, Sierra! You add smashed walnuts to the dressing."

"No, I did not," I said, my voice trembling. "I know she's allergic. She has been living with me for twenty years. I made that salad myself. There were no nuts."

"Then how did they get there?" He came near, his face flushed with pure anger. "You're jealous. You noticed she had returned and how much attention she received, and you became determined to stuff something in her food. Like the accident that happened to her three years ago, right? Another accident that came to destroy her life."

"I didn't do it," I retorted, and the tears began to blur my vision. "Desmond, I wasn't the one who...."

"Enough!" His voice was shattered, and he interrupted me. "I don't want to hear your lies. Lucky that I am not calling the police. But seeing how much you are so desperate to be helpful to Vivian, you are going to compensate for the time that you are making her lose in the hospital."

He pushed a huge stack of folders in my direction. "These are the board's annual reports. They were expected to be her first major contribution. You're going to finish them. Every single page. And you will see to it if they're flawless, and then when she returns, she can pass them off as hers."

"You want me to be her ghostwriter?" A sour laugh shot out of my throat.

"I want you to do what you are told once. Get out of my sight. I will have to go back to the hospital."

He passed by me, bumping my shoulder, and it hurt enough to make me off balance. He didn't look back.

At 8:00 PM.

I had spent five hours staring at spreadsheets. I could feel my stomach flipping weirdly, and my head was being squeezed in a vice.

"Maybe just stress," I said, massaging my temples. Stress and lack of food. I didn't remember to eat my lunch, and even skipped my dinner today.

I tried to rise and get some water, but the world tilted. It felt like the floor was trying to push me down, and I had to hold onto the edge of the desk before I could face-plant.

"No, no, definitely not only stress," I said.

There was a stabbing pain in my stomach. It was as though somebody had taken a hot iron and rubbed it into my gut. I gagged and fell forward, my breath choking in my throat. My skin was clammy, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

I picked up my phone, the fingers clumsily working on the lock screen. Instinctively, I dialled Desmond.

It rang several times, but no answer.

"Pick up, please, pick up," I whispered, sliding down the side of my desk until I was sitting on the floor.

Voicemail.

I tried again. And again. But nothing.

He was most likely in the hospital holding Vivian's hand this time, assuring her that he hated the woman who had poisoned her.

The agony grew, a sore bleeding inside of me. I felt dizzy—totally blank. The lights were beginning to run into white line streaks.

I went through my contacts, my eyes narrowing. Aleena.

I hit the call button. It seemed a lifetime before she replied.

"Sierra? What's up, babe?"

"Aleena," I croaked. My voice was bad; it was absolutely a rough mess. "Something's... wrong. I'm at the office... I can't..."

"Sierra? It is eight on Friday, are you still..."

Her voice was like a lifeline. But it was too far away.

"Hey! Talk to me. You sound like you're dying. Sierra?"

After standing up too quickly from the chair, I saw stars for a few seconds.

I made an attempt to speak, to tell her that the room was whirling away into another dimension, but my tongue failed to move. The phone dropped out of my numb fingers, banging on the carpet.

I clapped my eyes on the blue light of the phone screen, on Aleena's voice calling my name, and the distance between us seemed miles.

I fell into the silence.

The world went sideways.

And then it went black.