an's

orning arrived

product models, I struggled to concentrate on the creative director's presentation. Numbers kept swirling in my thoughts-forty th

ines blurred, replaced by the image of my boy's pale cheeks and anxious eyes. Even the muffled traffic outside faded, replaced by the phantom rhythm of the hospital's heart m

e with sharp, measuring eyes. His gaze wasn't angry-just uncomfort

hardly noticeable? Was he about to call me out for missing days at work? Would I

me out of my thoughts as the meeting

step made my heart thump louder, mirroring the fear I felt for Leo. When I s

Is everything alright here? Are you unhappy?"

he desperate need for surgery, the endless nights awake, and the impossible forty thousand I needed to save my child. My voice shook here and

could give me a salary advance

n I finished, he stared at the painting on his office wall, le

fore. "But you must understand how things work here. Since you're still on probation, the finance department

or had sla

d known the answer all along. I lowered my head, blinking hard to k

nderstand, Mr. Rogers. But... is there any way you could help me, personally?

g a plea that mixed business with desperation. My cheeks burned, but I refused to l

e mask of professionalism slipping as he studied me. He looked for pretense

on. His shoulders dropped, and the

last, his tone warmer than before.