**Diary Entry**
They let me go on my 55th birthday. As a parting gesture, I handed out roses to each of my colleagues, while leaving a folder on my bosss deskcontaining the results of a secret audit Id conducted on my own.
Margaret, well have to let you go, said Mr. Thompson in that sickly-sweet tone he always used when delivering a knife disguised as kindness. He settled back into his leather chair, laced his fingers over his stomach, and added, The company needs fresh energy, new blood. You understand, dont you?
I studied himhis carefully groomed face, the expensive tie Id helped him pick at the last corporate dinner. *Understand?* Of course I did. The shareholders had been demanding an independent audit, and he needed to remove the one person who knew the full truth: me.
I understand, I replied calmly. Is that fresh energy Lucy, the receptionist who mixes up debit and credit but is 22 and laughs at all your jokes?
His expression hardened. This isnt about age, Margaret. Its your methodstheyre outdated. We need a leap forward.
That phrase had been his mantra for months. Id built this company with him, back when we worked in a damp office with peeling walls. Now, with everything polished and gleaming, I no longer matched the décor.
Fine, I stood slowly, though inside I was ice. When should I clear my desk?
It wasnt the reaction hed wanted. Hed expected tears, pleadingsomething to make him feel victorious.
Today, if you like. HR has already prepared the documents. Everythings legal, your severance included.
I turned toward the door, pausing before I left. Youre right, Edward. The company does need a leap forward. And Ill be the one to take it.
He didnt understand. He just smirked.
No one in the office would meet my eye. I took the cardboard box already waiting on my desk and began packing my thingsmy favourite mug, photos of my children, papers. At the bottom, I placed the bouquet of daisies my university-aged son had given me the night before.
Then I retrieved what Id prepared: twelve red rosesone for each colleague Id worked with all these yearsand a black folder tied with ribbon.
I walked the floor, handing out the flowers, murmuring quiet thanks. There were hugs, tears. It felt like leaving family.
The folder was for him. I entered his office without knocking and set it atop his paperwork.
Whats this? he asked.
My parting gift. Every leap forward from the last two yearsfigures, invoices, dates. Im sure youll find it enlightening.
I left without looking back.
That night, just before eleven, my phone rang. It was him, voice frantic. Margaret Ive gone through the folder do you realise what this means?
Perfectly. These arent suspicionstheyre proof. Signatures, transfers, contracts.
If this gets out, the company will collapse
The company? Or you?
He tried to bargain, offered to reinstate me, even promote me. I only smiled. No, Edward. Theres no going back.
I hung up.
The next morning, Alfie from IT arrived. Margaret, he tried to wipe the servers last night. But I made mirrored copies. Weve got everything. Even emails about bribes and offshore transfers.
I pressed a hand to my forehead. The final blow.
Then Lucy showed up at my doorthe new energyholding one of the wilted roses, tears in her eyes. Im so sorry, Margaret. I didnt know Today, he tried to force me to sign a false report for the investors. I cant do it. Please help me.
I sighed. Even his supposed fresh start had cracks.
Two days later, Mr. Thompson resigned for personal reasons. The shareholders werent fooled. A week after that, they offered me the directorship.
I walked back into the office. On every desk, my roses still satwithered, but present. My colleagues applauded. I raised a hand. Enough. Weve got work to do. The real future starts now.
That day, I understood: they let me go for being 55. But those same 55 years had given me the experience, patience, and strength to endure, fight, and win. Now, youth worked beside me, learning the most valuable lesson of allhow to turn defeat into victory.
