I barely slept that night.
I lay awake calculating bills in my head.
Rent.
Utilities.
Groceries.
My mother’s expenses.
My brother’s school costs.
I tried telling myself I was overreacting, but every clue pointed in the same direction.
The personnel file.
The lawyer.
The accountant.
The mysterious document.
The Friday meeting.
By morning, I had convinced myself I was about to lose everything.
At exactly four o’clock that afternoon, Richard came downstairs.
The first thing I noticed was that he wasn’t wearing a tie.
I had worked with him for seven years and could count on one hand the number of times I had seen him in the office without one.
“Let’s go,” he said.
“Where?”
“Not far.”
We got into his car.
He didn’t explain anything during the drive.
Ten minutes later, we stopped beside a small park.
There were a few families in the distance, an older couple walking slowly along a path, and children playing near a row of trees.
