I swallowed everything churning inside me and forced my lips into a smile.
"Thank you, boss."
"Boss? Don't be silly! We're like sisters."
Sisters. We were employer and employee. Nothing more.
But starting next month, those roles would be reversed.
I carried the two ginseng roots back to my desk.
Lorna Lawrence, one of my team members, spotted them immediately and hurried over. "Wait—aren't these the same ones you gave away last month?"
Exactly.
Last month, Blair's mother had been hospitalized for fatigue. I'd driven out to the mountains myself, tracked down a supplier, and after hours of haggling, bought two roots at five hundred dollars each.
And now Blair had handed them back to me as a "year-end bonus," claiming each one was worth fifty thousand.
I wanted to laugh. But somehow, I couldn't.
All these years, I'd poured everything into this company. I'd worked overtime without complaint, picked up slack without being asked—partly because I needed the money, but partly because I genuinely believed Blair and I were like family.
These two ginseng roots had just slapped that delusion right off my face.
It was a workday morning, but I packed up my things and left.