You Said Until Death

My boss, Gavin Bright, didn't even look up as he pushed the report back to the edge of his desk. "Why do you need time off? You're not dead yet, are you?"

Then, he leaned back in his chair as he rolled the pen between his fingers, his tone dripping with superiority.

"Seraphina, this project is at a critical stage. Ms. Wayman is coming tomorrow to hear the presentation for the fourth version of our proposal. You're the project lead. Yet, you're telling me you need time off now?"

I took a deep breath, a dull ache spreading through my chest.

"I've pulled 23 all-nighters in a row. Mr. Bright, my heart is already working at its limit. I'll die if I keep pushing myself like this."

My supervisor, Phoebe Alistair, let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, Seraphina, that's a little dramatic, don't you think?"

She filed her nails before casually blowing at them.

"Everyone in this line of work has pulled all-nighters. You can do the work of three people by yourself. So, why are you suddenly feeling sick when it's time to present to the client? Don't tell me you didn't finish this proposal and you're trying to bail at the last minute."

I shot her a cold look.

Phoebe was Gavin's handpicked favorite.

She had none of the skills to back it up, but when it came to shifting blame and taking credit? God, she was second to none. Every proposal I stayed up all night writing always had her name on it, whether I liked it or not.

"I've already sent the proposal to the work group. I double-checked all the numbers, and everything is accurate."

I ignored her taunts and fixed my eyes on Gavin. "I just have one question. Will you approve my sick leave?"

Gavin's expression darkened as he slammed his hand down on the desk.

"Seraphina, are you really giving me lip right now? Let me make one thing clear. This company isn't running a charity. If you don't want to do the job, there are plenty of people who will.

"If you drop the ball during tomorrow morning's presentation, I'll dock your entire performance bonus for this month. Of course, you can forget about your year-end bonus."

Now that I had a front row seat to his utterly self-righteous tirade, I suddenly found the whole thing absurd. To them, my life was worth less than the progress bar on a single project.

I stared at him for a few seconds before nodding. "Fine. I'll do as you say."

I picked up the diagnosis from the desk and walked out of the office.

Soon, I heard Phoebe's sycophantic titter coming from behind me. "See that, Mr. Bright? I told you she was faking it. A little pressure and she'll fall right in line."

…

I walked into the conference room right on time at 9 a.m.

The room had been buzzing with discussion, but it fell completely silent the second I pushed the door open.

I was dressed in my usual business attire, my face pale as a sheet and my lips completely bloodless.

Still, what drew the most attention was the portable medical oxygen tank in my hand, which was about the size of a thermos.

Gavin's face went livid. He lowered his voice and hissed through clenched teeth, "Seraphina, have you lost your mind?"