The office was buzzing with the usual Monday morning intensity. I had walked in for what I thought was a routine meeting about our winter parking arrangements. The snowstorm had made things difficult, and everyone was struggling to find a solution. The memo had been clear—mandatory attendance for all department heads. As I settled into my chair, the meeting started, and the usual pleasantries were exchanged. But then, halfway through, our manager slid a document across the table to me, his eyes avoiding mine. It was an eviction notice, signed and dated. My heart dropped as the reality sunk in. No prior warnings, no discussions—just a sudden, jarring blow. I glanced around the room, searching for support, but met only rehearsed smiles and averted gazes. My mind raced as the meeting droned on, my thoughts tangled in questions and doubts. How had it come to this, and why hadn’t anyone said a word? I managed to hold my composure, but inside, I was unraveling. This was just the beginning, and I had a feeling the worst was yet to come.
