HR Picked the Wrong Girl

End of the year. I was gonna use my bonus to treat Mom to a quick getaway.

Instead? No bonus. Four hundred bucks sliced off my paycheck.

I shot the HR supervisor a notice—three days to pay up.

She laughed. Called me dramatic. Fired me right then.

Coworkers backed her. Said I brought it on myself. Said I didn't care about the company.

What they didn't see?

I laughed the second I got that termination letter.

Double severance?

Come to mama.

I'd just walked into the office when Lynn—my coworker—hit me with it: no bonus this year.

My stomach sank.

They called it a "bonus," but it was really 30 percent of our commission they held hostage all year. Now? Gone. Straight-up robbery.

I was gonna use that money to take Mom on a trip. Yeah, forget that.

Then, right as I was freaking out, last month's pay stub landed.

I checked it five times—had to be a glitch.

Base pay said $700. My contract says $1,100.

We weren't allowed to talk numbers, so I DMed HR to ask if it was a mistake.

No reply.

Waited thirty minutes. Sent another.

Crickets.

Just when I was about to log off, HR dropped a message in the company group:

[December salaries have been issued. If you have any questions, message me privately!]

I was on it:

[Ms. Lawrence, I think there's an issue with my paycheck. Could you check the message I sent you privately? Thank you.]

A second later, she finally hit back in DM:

[Ms. Crawford, do you have a problem with our department? We handle over 200 employees every day. You're not the only one. Can't you be a little patient?]

Oh please. Two hundred? Like every single one of them's blowing up her inbox. If anyone's drowning, it's me—juggling a hundred clients plus coworkers like her. I should be the one whining.

But sure, I'll play nice.

Esther Lawrence, HR supervisor and Mr. Lambert's precious little cousin, scored this job fresh out of college and spent a third of every month vacationing.

So yeah, I caved.

[Ms. Lawrence, I'm sorry. I acted out of urgency.]

I explained my paycheck was $400 short and I panicked. That's why I said something in the group chat.

Instead of dropping it, she came back swinging:

[Seriously? You really think a company this size would steal $400 from you? Maybe check yourself first.]

My blood was boiling.

I could practically hear the smugness through the screen.

Same smug look she wore when she forced out Sandra last month—five years on the job, gone in a snap.

Sandra had waited forever on a side project payment. Finally cracked and muttered, "Can't these nepotism hires just be shoved in a corner where they can't make life harder for the rest of us?"

Guess who found out.

The day Sandra's maternity leave ended, Esther booted her. Sandra had a newborn and no energy for drama, so she took the check and left.

Esther didn't stop there. She actually mocked her afterward—said, "These wage slaves should worry more about earning formula money than running their mouths."

Then she snatched up Sandra's clients and got praised for it. Sales director even made her give a "top performer" presentation. We had to write 1,500-word reflections on it.

I thought it was a joke and didn't bother. Maybe that's when she started gunning for me.

Still trying to fix it, I messaged again:

[Ms. Lawrence, it really was my fault earlier. I didn't mean to offend you. I sent you a coffee as an apology. Could you please help me check my payroll issue?]