Chapter 4: Boxed Out

The next morning, the lobby felt emptier than usual. Derek from HR waited at my office door, arms crossed, looking anywhere but at me. At his feet was a cardboard box with my name scrawled in black Sharpie, my life at the company crammed inside. My heart stuttered. This was really happening.

I’d thought maybe Mark was just blowing off steam last night. But he’d packed up everything—my framed team photo poking from the top, the bobblehead from last year’s holiday party wedged beside my favorite mug. It felt final, and petty. I hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.

This was his way of forcing me to kneel, to beg.

The message was clear: surrender or get out. Anger and sadness tangled in my gut, heavy and hot.

I looked around—the office felt colder, everyone ducking their heads as they passed, pretending not to see. Would any of them stand up, or just hope they weren’t next?

Derek’s face was full of guilt. "Alex, I’m sorry. Orders from above. I packed everything carefully."

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. He was just the messenger, but it still stung.

He hesitated, voice almost a whisper. "Alex…"

Silence stretched, broken only by a tinny Christmas ringtone from somewhere in the background.

"Mr. Chen said you…" He trailed off, not finishing. But I already knew how it ended. I gripped the awkward box, feeling the weight of my work—the rattle of pens, a teammate’s thank-you note wedged between folders. My chest was hollow, but something fierce burned inside.

I walked out with my box, but left my fear behind. Mark Chen had just made his last mistake.