I questioned everything. Was it something I had done? Or was it simply that I had become a convenient target in a game I didn’t understand?
As the weeks passed, the situation grew more dire. A formal letter arrived, hinting at termination linked to ‘contamination’ concerns.
The word itself felt like a branding, a mark of shame that I couldn’t shake.
Now, a meeting looms with the owner’s daughter, who’s recently taken a more active role in company decisions.
The thought of facing her is daunting, the stakes impossibly high.
I brace myself for what could be the end of my job, the end of the precarious balance I’ve worked so hard to maintain.
I keep hoping for an explanation, a reprieve, but the silence continues to grow.
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