Chapter 1

I drew a thick red circle around the date on my desk calendar, August 31st. My last day. Marking it felt final, a heavy line drawn under eight years of my life.

From across the cubicle wall, Lisa Rodriguez peeked over. "Don't tell me you're actually doing it, Sarah."

"I'm doing it," I said, capping the red marker. "My resignation letter is already typed up. I just need to sign it and hand it to Mr. Henderson."

Lisa leaned against the partition, her arms crossed. A skeptical smile played on her lips. "You say that every time David overlooks you for a promotion. You said it last year when he gave the waterfront project to Mark, and you said it the year before when he took credit for your winning design for the Harrison Tower."

She was right, but this time was different. This time, it wasn't just about my career.

I looked past her, toward the glass-walled office at the corner of the floor. David Chen' s office. For eight years, that office was my North Star. I came to this firm, one of the most prestigious in the country, straight out of grad school. I didn't come for the reputation or the paycheck, I came for him. I had a crush on David since a guest lecture he gave at my university. He was brilliant, driven, and had a passion for structural integrity that I found incredibly attractive. I thought if I worked hard enough, if I showed him how dedicated and talented I was, he would eventually see me. Not just as a colleague, but as something more.

So I put my own dreams on hold. I had a passion for art history, for the stories old buildings told, but I buried it under blueprints and building codes. I worked grueling hours, took on the projects no one else wanted, and endured the cutthroat competition, all for a crumb of his attention, a nod of his approval. I told myself his aloofness was just his personality, that his high standards were a sign he respected my potential. I made excuses for every time he was cold, for every time he chose someone else' s idea over mine.

The door to the main office area swung open, and Mr. Henderson, the firm' s managing partner, walked in. He was a stoic man in his late sixties, always dressed in an immaculate suit. His eyes scanned the floor, and when they landed on me, they narrowed.

"Miller," he called out, his voice sharp. "The final schematics for the Sterling Bridge proposal. Where are they?"

"I just finished them, Mr. Henderson. They're on your desk, I dropped them off ten minutes ago," I said, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach. He never used that tone with anyone else.

"They aren't on my desk," he said, his voice flat and dismissive. "Find them. The client meeting is in an hour."

Before I could respond, a lighter voice cut in. "Oh, Mr. Henderson! I think I saw them. I borrowed them for a moment to cross-reference the material specs. My apologies, Sarah! I should have told you."

Emily White, the new junior architect, appeared at Mr. Henderson' s side. She was charming and sweet, with a smile that could disarm anyone. She had only been at the firm for six months, but she had already captured everyone's attention, especially David's.

She handed the file to Mr. Henderson, and his expression softened instantly. "Ah, thank you, Emily. Good initiative. It' s good to see our new hires being so thorough."

He gave her a warm, paternal pat on the shoulder, a gesture I had never once received in my eight years here. He walked away without another glance in my direction. The contrast was a physical blow. Emily gave me a small, apologetic smile before following him.

I sank into my chair, the memory of David defending me years ago surfacing without my permission. I was a rookie, and a contractor had tried to blame me for a costly mistake that was his own. David had stepped in, his voice low but firm, and systematically dismantled the contractor's lies with cold, hard facts. He had protected me. He had stood up for me. Back then, I thought it was the beginning of something. Now, I realized it was just him protecting the firm' s interests, nothing more.

I watched as David walked out of his office and met Emily by the coffee machine. He leaned in, listening to something she said, and a genuine, unguarded smile spread across his face. It was a smile I had only ever seen in my dreams. He touched her arm lightly, a casual gesture of affection that spoke volumes. It was in that moment, watching him look at her with a warmth he never showed me, that the last of my illusions shattered. It was over. The eight-year-long race I had been running was finished, and I had lost. I wasn't just losing a promotion or a project. I was losing a future I had built entirely in my own head.

I pulled out my resignation letter. This time, I signed it. The countdown had begun. Thirty days left. Then, I would be free.