“I truly did not see anything, I promise.”
“I said get out of here right now!”
Blake backed away so quickly that he nearly toppled over his industrial cleaning cart.
He slammed the door shut and stood pressed against the cold hallway wall for several long seconds, his chest heaving with adrenaline.
He did not feel a sense of shame for having witnessed Darlene in such a vulnerable state.
Instead, he felt an overwhelming, icy dread.
The entire country believed she had walked away entirely unscathed from a horrific, high speed collision on the interstate months ago.
National magazines had even published glossy photos of her triumphant return to the company headquarters.
But the cold reality was entirely different.
Darlene was clearly suffering, barely able to remove the restrictive medical device without assistance.
Blake finished the remainder of his shift with hands that would not stop trembling.
On his commute home through the freezing rain, he crunched the numbers in his head over and over again.
If he was fired, there was no way he would be able to pay the rent at the end of the month.
If he lost his company benefits, Abigail would be left without access to her critical medical appointments.
He thought about frantically searching for a new job before sunrise, but he knew in his gut that a single phone call from someone as powerful as Darlene Stanley could close every door in the city to him.
When he finally arrived home, he found his daughter sound asleep on the worn sofa at Mrs. Clark’s house, the neighbor who watched her during his night shifts.
Abigail had her plastic inhaler clutched tightly between her small fingers.
Blake carefully scooped her up and made a silent vow that he would do absolutely anything necessary to protect her future.
The following morning, his security badge still allowed him access to the building entrance.
For a few fleeting minutes, he convinced himself that the danger had passed and he had escaped unnoticed.
Then, his supervisor suddenly appeared near the elevator bank with an unnaturally pale face.
“Blake, drop the mop and bucket right now,” he ordered.
“They are waiting for you upstairs.”
“Are we talking about Human Resources?”
The man slowly shook his head, looking terrified.
“No, it is Mrs. Stanley herself, she wants to see you in her private office.”
Fifty floors above the city, Darlene was sitting behind her desk, staring at a thick file containing Blake’s entire life story.
She had all his details right in front of her, including his outstanding debts, his military discharge papers, Abigail’s chronic illness, and even the three months of back rent he owed.
She had spent the entire night deliberating over her next move.
And it was not a plan to fire him.
She intended to bring him into her inner circle, especially since someone from her own family was actively plotting her total downfall.
PART 2
Darlene did not offer him a cup of coffee or try to soothe his frayed nerves.
She simply pointed to the velvet chair in front of her mahogany desk and dropped the file containing his personal information onto the surface.
“I spent the morning investigating exactly who you are, Blake.”
He felt his face burning with humiliation as she read off his injury, the unfair dismissal he had suffered after leaving the Army, his medical debts, and the severity of Abigail’s asthma.
“You have absolutely no right to pry into my daughter’s health or my personal life,” he said, finally finding the courage to stand up for himself.
