During the funeral, a crow landed on the girl’s coffin. A second later, everyone present was STRUCK SPEECHLESS…

The world felt hostile. Emily trudged to the office, each step a struggle. Her body resisted movement.

Anxiety gnawed at her. “Today, I settle this. I have to talk to him.”

Matthew’s silence from yesterday drove her mad. The message remained unanswered. She entered the office, her badge clicking at the turnstile, and headed to her desk. Colleagues prepped for the day, some sipping coffee, others discussing reports. “Hey, Emily!” Sarah waved cheerfully, holding a paper coffee cup.

“You left so fast yesterday. Everything okay?” “Yeah, fine,” Emily mumbled, hurrying past. “Hey, I wanna talk!” Sarah called, but Emily didn’t listen.

Her heart raced. The corridor to Matthew’s office felt endless. She paused, as if forgetting something, then pressed on.

At his door, she froze. Gathering her courage, she knocked three times. “Come in!” Matthew’s familiar voice called.

She grabbed the handle, took a deep breath, and entered. Her heart skipped. Matthew sat at his desk.

His shirt was pristine. He flipped through a report, but… Claire stood beside him. “Oh, you’re just in time!” Claire said with a smile dripping with venom, unsettling Emily.

“I need to speak with Matthew,” Emily said, trying to sound firm. “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Claire interrupted, handing her an envelope. “Emily, you’re fired.”

Silence rang in the room. “What?” Emily whispered, unable to believe it. “Why?” “For failing to meet the company’s professional standards,” Claire said sweetly, tossing her hair. “It’s all in the documents. Sign them and collect your things.” Emily looked at Matthew, pleading for him to say something, to look at her, to explain, but he kept his eyes on his papers. “Matthew!” she cried, her voice breaking.

“You’re just going to stay silent?” He froze, his fingers tightening on the report, but he didn’t look up. “There’s nothing more to discuss,” Claire said calmly. “You know this is the end, don’t you?” Rain lashed the sidewalks, turning them into mirrors.

People hurried home under umbrellas and hoods, but Emily walked slowly, numb to the cold and wet. The box of her belongings was soaked, its corners softening under the weight. Water ran down her hair and cheeks, mingling with tears.

The street was as gray and cold as her thoughts. She stopped at a lamppost, clutching the box tighter. “What do I do? How do I go on?” Passersby ignored her.

She was just another woman lost in her troubles. Her key struggled in the lock, her hands shaking. On the third try, the door opened…