Chapter 2 - Packing the Box
The drive back to the office three days later felt like marching to my own execution. My cardboard box sat empty on the passenger seat, a pathetic monument to three years of wasted dedication. When I walked back through those glass doors, the atmosphere in the office had shifted dramatically; people avoided my gaze, whispering behind partitioned cubicles as if I carried a contagious disease. Nick wasn't at his desk, but his sycophantic assistant, Greg, hovered near my old cubicle with a smug grin, holding a trash bag ready to sweep away whatever remnants of my career I had left behind.
"Box it up quick, Sebastian," Greg muttered under his breath, leaning against the divider. "Nick is furious you even showed your face here again. He doesn't want you contaminating the floor before the new senior VP arrives this afternoon." I ignored him, sliding my framed family photos, my favorite coffee mug, and my notebooks into the cardboard container. Every item felt heavy with memories of late nights spent burning the midnight oil to secure accounts that Nick invariably took credit for. As I packed, my mind drifted back to the roadside woman. I hadn't even caught her name; all I remembered were her striking, intelligent eyes fading before the paramedics whisked her away to Mercy General.
Just as I taped the top of my box, a sudden commotion rippled through the front reception area. Voices raised in panic and confusion cut through the quiet hum of the office. I looked up to see a towering security guard backing hurriedly toward our floor, followed by two immaculate individuals in tailored designer suits—and flanked by an imposing, sharply dressed woman leaning slightly on an expensive cane. Her silver-streaked hair was pulled back into a severe knot, and her sharp gaze swept over the open-plan office like a hawk scanning a field. It was her. The woman from the roadside.
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Before I could even process the surreal reality, the woman locked eyes with me across the room. Her stern expression instantly melted into a warm, radiant smile. She bypassed the reception desk entirely, ignoring the frantic, bowing-and-scraping approach of Nick, who came jogging out of his corner office buttoning his suit jacket and stammering apologies. Nick threw himself directly in her path, his voice dripping with sycophantic terror. "Mrs. Sterling! Welcome! We are so deeply honored that the board of Vanguard Holdings chose our agency for your executive walkthrough today. Please, allow me to escort you to the VIP conference room..."
Mrs. Sterling didn't even break stride. She raised a single, manicured hand, stopping Nick dead in his tracks as she walked right past him, heading straight toward my sad little cardboard box. My heart hammered against my ribs as she stopped right in front of me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Found you," she whispered softly, her voice carrying across the completely silent office.
