LOGINRose’s POV
I walked into Washington Global on tuesday morning, ready to do my job.
I passed the lobby and went to the private elevator. I pulled out my access card and tapped it against the scanner.
The light blinked red and beeped.
I wiped the card on my skirt and tapped it again. Still red again.
A security guard walked over to me. It was not David. I had never seen this one before.
“Your access card is not working, Miss Rose,” the guard said. He looked down at his shoes.
He reached into his pocket. He brought out a new white card attached to a plastic string and held it out to me.
“This is a standard building card,” the guard said. “It no longer opens the executive floor. You would have to use the regular elevators from now on.”
I looked at the piece of plastic. Someone changed my security access overnight.
I did not ask any questions or say anything. I accepted the new card. I put my old card in my pocket and walked over to the regular elevators.
The elevator doors opened on the planning department floor. I walked down the hallway to my old office.
I stopped walking before I reached the door.
The nameplate on the wall was gone. A blank white space was left behind.
I stepped inside the room. Someone else was in there. Thomas was standing by my desk. He was putting my files into a box.
Thomas froze when he saw me.
“I am sorry, Miss Rose,” Thomas said. “Mrs Washington called me this morning. She asked me to move your things.”
I looked around the room. The family photo beside my computer was gone. My coffee mug was inside a cardboard box. My pens had been put into a plastic bag on the floor, as if they were trash.
The room already looked like it belonged to someone else.
I just nodded, and stayed quiet.
“Thank you, Thomas,” I said. “I will take it from here.”
Thomas walked out of the room.
I found a small empty box near the door. I picked up my bag of pens and grabbed my coffee mug. I packed them all into the box and carried the box out of the room myself.
These losses did not even happen all at once. They came one after another, as if someone wanted me to feel every single one.
At ten in the morning, a man from the tech department walked up to my desk.
“I need to collect your company phone,” the man said. He stared at his clipboard.
I unlocked the phone. I deleted my messages. Then I handed the phone to him.
At eleven, my assistant, Clara, walked by my desk, carrying two cups of coffee. She saw me. For a second, it looked like she wanted to stop. Then she lowered her eyes and kept walking toward the executive elevator. She was reassigned to Vivian.
At noon, I received a paper memo. My parking space was given away to a new manager.
I turned to my computer to send an email. I typed my password. The screen showed an error. It said my email account did not exist.
I needed to check a phone number. I walked over to the organizational chart outside the human resources office. I looked at the list of names.
I read the chart again, hoping I had missed something. My eyes moved from the top to the bottom, but my name was nowhere. Years of work had disappeared overnight, as if I had never been there in the first place.
Nobody said anything to me, or even explained what was happening. Every time I walked past, they all suddenly found something else to look at.
I would have preferred if they had just said something. It felt like I had already left the company, even though I was still standing there.
Later in the afternoon, I walked to the finance floor. Jake and Vivian were standing near the conference room. A project manager named Greg was talking to them.
I stayed back near the printing machine.
“The supply chain for the steel delivery is delayed,” Greg said. “The vendor wants to increase the price. What should we do, Mrs Washington?”
Vivian stayed quiet.
“Give me five minutes,” Vivian said. “I need to check a document in my office.”
She walked away. She went into her office and closed the door. Jake and Greg waited in the hallway.
Five minutes later, Vivian walked back out and looked at Greg.
“Tell them we will cancel the contract and go with Apex Industries instead,” Vivian said. “Apex has a warehouse twenty miles away. They owe us a favor. They will match the original price.”
Greg quickly wrote the instructions down. “That is a great idea. Thank you, Mrs Washington.”
Jake looked impressed but did not say anything.
I stopped walking. I recognized that exact answer immediately. Those were the backup plans I wrote down three days ago.
Vivian was not learning. She was getting the answers from somewhere.
Something felt odd about the way she spoke. I knew I had heard those exact words before. The answer felt too familiar, but I could not remember where.
I turned around and walked back toward the lobby.
I stopped when I reached the company history wall.
The framed display in the center of the wall had been changed.
The old picture used to show Jake and me. The new picture showed Jake standing alone. Next to it was a picture of Vivian.
Jake. Vivian. Washington Global.
I was gone.
There was no picture of me. There was no mention of my name. It was as if I never helped build the company.
I stood there quietly. I stared at the blank space between their photos. I folded a piece of paper in my hand over and over.
Footsteps sounded behind me.
Jake walked down the hallway. He saw me staring at the wall.
He slowed down and stopped near me.
“Rose,” Jake said.
I turned to look at him.
For a second, he looked uncomfortable. His eyes moved to the blank space, then back to me. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something.
Then he closed his mouth.
“We have investors coming in this afternoon,” Jake said.
He walked past me without another word.
I stood there for a moment before turning away. I went back to my old office to collect the last of my things. I opened my briefcase to put everything together, but something felt wrong. I checked the first folder, then the second. I searched the side pocket too.
Nothing.
My heart started beating faster. I emptied the whole briefcase onto the desk. Papers scattered everywhere, but the notebook was nowhere to be found.
I stood there, staring at the mess. Then I remembered yesterday , I had left my briefcase in the planning office. Vivian had been there.
My fingers tightened around the handle of my briefcase.
Vivian.
Rose’s POVThe week dragged on, and the atmosphere at Washington Global completely changed. The usual sounds of people working and phones ringing were gone. Instead, the floor felt tense. Everyone moved carefully, keeping their heads down and their voices low.I sat at my new desk near the corner, organizing some files. I tried to focus on the files in front of me, but it was impossible to ignore how much the office had changed.Near the breakroom, three employees stood together with their coffee cups. They spoke quietly and kept looking around to make sure the hallway was empty.“Things have not been the same lately,” a senior analyst named Marcus said. “Miss Dane used to fix things before they became worse,” a younger employee whispered. “Now every day feels like we are putting out a new fire.”“She always knew what to do,” the third person agreed.I kept my eyes on the screen and pretended I had not heard a word.Vivian was struggling with the daily operations. She tried her best
Rose’s POVI barely slept after everything that happened with the magazine feature. My mind kept replaying every word of the article, every stolen strategy, and the silence that followed the anonymous flowers.My morning sickness was getting worse. I stood in front of my bathroom mirror for ten minutes, taking slow breaths until my stomach settled enough for me to put on my clothes. I kept telling myself the same thing over and over. I just had to survive one more day.I stayed in front of the mirror a little longer, studying my reflection under the bathroom light. My face looked paler than usual, and dark circles were under my eyes. But there was nothing else to see. I smoothed my hands down the front of my blouse. My stomach was still completely flat. Nobody could look at me and guess the truth. No one would know. Not yet.When I walked into Washington Global, the executive floor was quiet. Most of the staff were already at their desks. I sat down at my station and opened a new fold
Rose’s POVI arrived at the office early on Wednesday morning and opened my briefcase for what felt like the hundredth time. I searched every folder, every pocket, and every loose sheet of paper, even though I already knew what I would find.Nothing.I closed the briefcase and slid it beneath my desk. Sitting there and staring at the empty leather space would not bring the notebook back. I switched on my computer and forced myself to focus on work.My stomach twisted without warning. The feeling washed over me, cold and sharp. I closed my eyes and rested a hand over the small life growing inside me.“Not now,” I mouthed.I took a deep breath and waited for the feeling to pass. This baby was my reason to survive, and I had to keep going. A minute later, my stomach settled. I opened my eyes and pulled up the financial reports for the morning meeting.I read through the documents. One number caught my attention. I frowned. Then another number looked completely wrong. I traced the columns
Rose’s POVI walked into Washington Global on tuesday morning, ready to do my job.I passed the lobby and went to the private elevator. I pulled out my access card and tapped it against the scanner.The light blinked red and beeped.I wiped the card on my skirt and tapped it again. Still red again.A security guard walked over to me. It was not David. I had never seen this one before.“Your access card is not working, Miss Rose,” the guard said. He looked down at his shoes.He reached into his pocket. He brought out a new white card attached to a plastic string and held it out to me.“This is a standard building card,” the guard said. “It no longer opens the executive floor. You would have to use the regular elevators from now on.”I looked at the piece of plastic. Someone changed my security access overnight.I did not ask any questions or say anything. I accepted the new card. I put my old card in my pocket and walked over to the regular elevators.The elevator doors opened on the p
Rose’s POVI stepped out of the boardroom carrying the folders and empty cups. Vivian stood in the hallway, staring right at me.She had heard what Jake said. I did not look away. Nobody spoke. Vivian broke the eye contact first.“Jake,” she called out. He stopped and turned around. “You said you were going to introduce me to the department heads,” Vivian said.Jake checked his watch. “Right.” He looked at me. “Bring the files.” I adjusted the folders in my arms and followed them out of the executive wing. The office was busy. People hurried past us as phones rang in the background.“Morning, Miss Rose,” David, the security guard, said. He stood up from his chair as we approached.“Good morning, David,” I replied.Vivian noticed how he stood up straighter for me. She did not say a word, but I saw her face change. She walked faster to get ahead.We walked into the finance department floor. Mark hurried to meet us with a folder.“Morning, Miss Rose,” Mark said. “We have a quick questio
Rose’s POVVivian’s laughter from the master bedroom woke me early. I lay awake, listening as rain tapped against the window. She was on the phone, bragging about being back in Jake’s bed , as though she had won a prize. Maybe she had. Because twenty four hours ago, that bed had been mine.Before I could get out of bed, a sharp pain hit my stomach. I gripped it tight and ran to the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before throwing up.My hands shook as I wiped my mouth. My legs felt too weak to stand. I stayed on the cold floor and rested my head on my knees to stop the room from spinning.This was not just stress. It was the tiny life growing inside me. I touched my bare stomach. Everything had changed. I had lost my husband and our home, but I had something else to protect now. My baby.Out in the hallway, Jake and Vivian started talking. I wanted to grab the envelope, walk out there, and throw the test result in his face. I wanted him to know he was having a child with the w







