It was already two in the afternoon, yet she remained at the door, unmoving.
The termination letter trembled in her grasp, her fingers tightening around the crisp edges as though sheer willpower could rewrite reality. Maybe, just maybe, a last-minute miracle would happen.
The hushed murmurs of her colleagues drifted through the corridor, their whispers pressing against her like an invisible weight. She could feel their stares, their silent judgment. But none of them understood what this meant for her.
A lump formed in her throat as she stared at the name printed at the bottom of the letter. The general manager had been the one to sign off on her dismissal. Not even a word of explanation—just a cold, impersonal letter stating her employment had been terminated, effective immediately.
She didn't cry—not because she wasn't devastated, but because deep down, she still clung to the fragile hope that something would change. That any moment now, the manager would step out, call her back, and rip the letter in half.
But nothing happened.
Her coworkers trickled out of the office one by one, casting her occasional glances before disappearing down the hall. She barely noticed them. The only thought consuming her mind was what now?
Her mother, bound to a wheelchair, needed her. Her two brothers depended on her salary to survive.
The sharp click of expensive shoes on the marble floor caught her attention. Her employer walked past without so much as a glance, stepping into his luxury car as if she had never existed.
And just like that, reality struck.
It was over.
The grief she'd been suppressing finally broke free, tears spilling down her cheeks. She didn't even care that she was still standing in the middle of the hallway. Sobs wracked her body until a pair of firm hands gripped her arms.
"The boss has left, miss," one of the security guards said, his tone neutral. "You need to leave too."
Twenty minutes late. That's all it had taken for them to decide she wasn't worth keeping.
She didn't bother taking a bus. Instead, she walked, her thoughts tangled in a storm of uncertainty.
Halfway home, the sound of scuffling and muffled cries broke through her daze. She turned a corner and spotted a group of boys surrounding someone. Fists flew, laughter rang out—cruel and merciless.
Her blood boiled.
Without a second thought, she sprinted toward them.
"Hey!" she barked, her voice cutting through the commotion. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
The gang turned to her, eyeing her with amusement.
"Stay out of this, lady," one of them sneered.
She took a step closer, her stance firm. "Or what? You going to try me next?"
They laughed. A small girl like her? Threatening them?
Big mistake.
The first boy hurled a rock at her. She dodged with ease. Before he could process her speed, she moved—her foot connecting sharply with his jaw. Another reached for her, but she twisted his arm, sending him crashing into his friend. Within seconds, they were a tangled mess of limbs.
Fear flashed across their faces.
They bolted.
Panting, she turned to the boy they had attacked. Blood smeared his lip, and he stared at her, wide-eyed.
"Did you really just… do that?"
She crossed her arms. "Shouldn't you be home? Why are you wandering around alone?"
He sighed, wiping at his bruises. "I was walking a girl home. Turns out, my classmates set me up."
His phone buzzed. A look of panic crossed his face. "Oh, crap. My driver's called me forty times!"
She stayed with him until his ride arrived.
The moment the driver spotted her, he bowed deeply. "Thank you. If it weren't for you, I might've ended up in jail over this."
Before she knew it, they had exchanged numbers.
When she finally reached home, she found her mother and younger brother sitting by the backyard fish pond, their faces glowing with excitement.
"Three thousand pounds today!" her mother beamed. "A man bought two thousand worth of fish—it changed everything!"
Sophia forced a smile, masking the dread curling in her chest.
Their plan had been to save enough for surgery within two months. But now? Without her job, that deadline stretched impossibly far.
She couldn't bring herself to tell them the truth.
Not yet.
That night, she locked herself in her room and pulled up job listings. Scrolling through them, her phone suddenly rang.
An unknown number.
"Hello?"
"Am I speaking to Sophia Jones?"
Her grip tightened around the phone. "Yes. Who is this?"
"My brother told us what happened today. You defended him. I fired his driver two hours ago." A pause. "We'd like to offer you the job—bodyguard and driver. Five thousand pounds a month."
Her breath caught.
She had been making two thousand at Flourish Scents. This was more than double. Enough to cover rent in Tower Hamlets. Enough to keep her younger brother in university after she'd already paid nearly ten grand for his tuition.
"We'd like to meet tomorrow. You'd start Monday. We'll also transfer £2,000 for today's incident. Call this number once you've made a decision."
The line went dead.
Sophia stared at her phone, heart pounding.
She needed the money. But this job meant stepping back into the world her mother had prayed she would leave behind.
Torn, she dialed her younger brother, Sydney.
"You're in class?" she asked when he picked up.
"Tomorrow's exam day. Senior students are tutoring us."
She exhaled. "I lost my job today."
Silence. Then, "What?"
She explained everything—the fight, the job offer.
Sydney didn't hesitate. "Mum doesn't get to decide how we survive. If you're okay with this, take the job. Just… don't tell her."
The line clicked off before she could reply.
He was right. Two thousand wouldn't be enough.
Her phone rang again.
Sammie.
Her heart clenched.
He had been her closest friend for ten years, but ever since moving to Canary Wharf, they had barely seen each other. Now that his internship at The Royal London was over, was he finally reaching out?
She picked up. "Hi, Sammie."
"Come outside."
She found him leaning against his car, hands in his pockets. The moment their eyes met, she ran to him, burying herself in his arms.
They held each other for minutes, neither speaking.
"You've lost weight," she murmured, scanning his face.
He kissed her forehead. "I missed you, Sophia."
"You came all this way just to see me?"
"Yeah." His voice was quieter than usual. "I have a big decision to make, and I'm not sure how things will be between us afterward."
Her stomach tightened. "What are you talking about?"
He gave a small, sad smile. "Nothing. Let's just… be here, like this, for a while."
She didn't argue.
They spent hours at Victoria Park, laughing, running, singing.
For a little while, the weight on her chest lifted.
As they parted ways, her mother approached, eyes twinkling.
"When is Sammie finally going to ask you out?"
Sophia sighed. "Maybe he'll just propose outright. We've known each other for ten years."
Her mother scoffed. "If he hasn't kissed you yet, he's not serious."
Sophia turned away. "Mum, can you just stop?"
Jessica Jones watched her daughter walk off, a troubled look on her face.
Something about Sammie's behavior didn't sit right.