Failed Probation Because My Grandma Died

Geoffrey's POV

On the last day of my internship, I was called into the office of the HR manager, Dorothy Kellan.

"Geoffrey Miller, your application for a permanent position has been rejected by the company."

I wasn't particularly surprised to hear the outcome.

“Additionally, your excessive leave during the internship seriously disrupted work progress. So, in accordance with company policy, your entire three months' pay for the internship will be forfeited."

I failed to stifle a laugh. "Ms. Kellan, I need an explanation."

Dorothy seemed provoked by my reaction. She sat up abruptly and fixed her gaze sharply on me. "An explanation? What explanation do you need? It's written in black and white—interns are not allowed to take more than two days of leave. How many did you take?"

"Three days," I replied calmly. "First, the leave I took was bereavement leave for my grandmother. That is statutory leave under national law. Second, I submitted all the required supporting documents and received approval from my department head. Third..."

My gaze drifted past her, toward the figure outside the office who was laughing and joking around with other colleagues.

"Ethan Holte, who started at the same time as me, has taken leave three times over these past three months to look after his girlfriend, who suffers from menstrual pain, and he took seven days each time, which makes it a total of 21 days. Why was he able to assume a permanent role without an issue?"

Dorothy gave a contemptuous snort and leaned back lazily in her chair. "Geoffrey, did the internship turn your brain to mush? You're comparing yourself to Ethan? Why don't you ask around and find out whose company this is?

"Besides, Ethan's girlfriend has menstrual pain. That kind of pain is agonizing, and it may affect their offspring. And you?"

She gave me a once-over and curled her lip in disdain. "You just lost your grandmother, that's all. All old people die eventually. What's the big deal? Was it really worth taking three days off? How dramatic!"

I lowered my gaze and didn't argue with her further.

As Dorothy rattled on with her snide remarks, I quietly slipped my hand into my pocket, ran my fingertip lightly along the side of my phone, and pressed the lock button.

Just before the screen went dark, I clearly saw the bright red, pulsing recording timer.

Perfect. I had all the evidence I needed.

I picked up my mug and walked back to my desk in the marketing department expressionlessly.

The previously lively office fell silent in an instant. Every gaze locked onto me like searchlights. Some were sympathetic, and some were curious, but mostly, they were gloating at my misfortune.

I could hear their low, scattered murmurs buzzing around me like flies.

Ignoring everyone, I went straight to my seat and started packing my things. All I had was my keyboard, a mouse pad, a mug I'd used for three years, and a few professional books.

When I picked up the proposal for the Starlight Project, I paused for a moment. This plan, which had cost me countless sleepless nights, had ultimately ended up as Ethan's crowning achievement.

I remembered clearly how my direct supervisor, Winston Fitzroy, a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and a perpetual mantra of "don't make waves", had handed the proposal to Ethan in front of the entire department.

Winston had even praised Ethan for being exceptionally gifted and said he had a bright future ahead of him.

Meanwhile, I, the person who came up with the whole project, got nothing more than a dismissive "Geoffrey contributed to the project as well. Keep up the good work."

All of this had happened simply because everyone was convinced that Ethan was the CEO's fiance.

"Oh my, Geoff, what are you doing?"