---
It was nearly midnight when I arrived at the Burlington station.
I walked through the gate and there was my father, exactly where he'd promised to be.
In the passenger seat of his car, a whole grocery bag of my favorite snacks and smoothies.
Before he started the engine, he pushed a paper straw into a bottle of oat-milk smoothie and handed it to me.
I saw the silver in his hair and something broke open in me. I burst into tears.
"Dad. I'm not going anywhere this time. I'm staying with you and Mom. For good."
"Silly girl. Whether you stay or not, you'll always be our Rowan."
He could tell I was gutted. But I didn't volunteer anything, and he didn't ask.
Home. Shower. Dinner at the kitchen table with my parents.
By ten I was in bed, reaching for my phone to queue up something soothing to fall asleep to.
That's when I saw the DMs.
My closest work friend.
She'd been shocked by my sudden departure. She asked, kindly, if something had happened. If there was anything she could do.
While I was thinking of how to reply, she sent a video.
Rowan. This video of Mr. Sterling and Juliet—it's going viral in the company Slack.
I hesitated. Then I opened it.
Boardroom security camera footage, silent. Just three people: Ashton, Juliet, and the VP of HR.
The HR guy was almost in tears, bowing and explaining something.
Ashton didn't look at him. His eyes were fixed on the piece of paper in his hand.
My resignation form.
After three minutes and forty seconds, Ashton flicked a hand. The HR executive fled like a man pardoned from the gallows.
Juliet, standing behind him with a sour look locked on her face, plastered on a smile and reached to touch his shoulder.
He jerked his arm, hard, and knocked a full cup of scalding coffee off the table and onto himself.
Coffee hit his face, his shirt. He didn't react. He stood up like nothing had happened and started pacing, lips twisted into something that wasn't a smile.
Then his phone buzzed. His whole body snapped toward it.
Whatever the message said, it was long. He didn't move for a full minute.
When he finally lowered the phone, his face was blank. Juliet wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.
He whipped around and hurled the phone into the LED screen mounted on the wall.
Sparks. Shattered glass.
Juliet twisted her ankle falling back, sobbing.
Ashton turned toward—
The video cut off.
I didn't need to see the rest. He would have helped her up. He would have apologized, soft and rueful. He would have doubled down, spoiled her more, let her get away with even more.
I closed the app and sent my friend a thank-you and every blessing I could think of.