The next morning, as the sun barely crept over the horizon, the office was already alive with quiet murmurs and the occasional clatter of keyboards. HR was in full swing, calculating the year-end bonuses. I sat at my desk, pretending to focus on my tasks but unable to stop my thoughts from drifting to the possibilities. After years of service, my bonus should easily fall into the four-figure range.
I had already planned how I'd spend the New Year with that money—new clothes for myself, a small gift for my parents and maybe even a short getaway. It wasn't extravagant, but it would be enough to make the holidays special.
Then Harold, the finance department manager, walked past my desk. His face was pale, his forehead glistening with sweat. Something was not right.
"Harold," I called softly. "What's wrong?"
He hesitated, his gaze darting around as if to ensure no one was listening. "This is ridiculous," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely above a whisper.
My stomach tightened. "What's ridiculous?"
"It's the year-end bonuses," he finally sighed. "They're no longer multiplied by several times. They're fixed amounts now."
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. My heart skipped a beat. "What does that mean?" I demanded, my voice trembling.
Harold glanced around again, then leaned closer. "We've been colleagues for a long time, so I won't lie to you." He paused, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of his words was too much to bear. "Your year-end bonus is probably less than a month's salary."
For a moment, I couldn't breathe. Less than a month's salary? After everything I'd given to this company?
Harold, clearly uncomfortable, avoided my gaze and hurried toward his office. But I wasn't about to let this go. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I followed him and grabbed his arm just as he reached his desk.
"Less than a month? What happened to the previous calculation based on the average salary over the years?" My voice rose despite my best efforts to remain calm.
Harold sighed deeply, avoiding my eyes. "I have no choice," he said finally. "Hellen said that lately, you've been slacking off. She thinks you don't deserve such a high bonus."
I stared at him in disbelief, anger bubbling to the surface. Slacking off? Did Hellen not notice the countless times I'd worked overtime without complaint? She only saw me when I took a moment to breathe, never when I was buried in work.
"I've been a dedicated employee for years!" I shot back, my voice cracking with emotion.
Harold shook his head helplessly. "It's the boss's decision, Claire. As employees, we can only follow orders."
I clenched my fists, refusing to back down. "Is it the same for everyone?"
Harold hesitated, his reluctance evident in the way he shifted from foot to foot. I grabbed his sleeve, demanding an answer.
After a moment, he sighed and pulled me into the elevator lobby, lowering his voice. "Not for the senior executives," he admitted.
Of course. The senior executives—the ones who barely lifted a finger—would still get their full bonuses while the rest of us scraped by on crumbs.
"Claire, just get through this New Year," Harold said, his tone heavy with resignation.
I nodded, but inside, I was seething. I had been with this company since its early days, watching it rise and fall. I never imagined they'd treat me like this after all my years of service.
The damp cleaning rag in my hand felt heavier than ever, the cold seeping into my skin.
"Fine," I muttered, my voice barely audible.
By the time the workday ended, I was ready to leave. I grabbed my bag, my shoulders tense and my head pounding from the day's revelations. But just as I reached the door, Hellen's voice rang out behind me.
"Claire, where are you going?"
I turned to face her, forcing myself to stay calm. "It's time to clock out," I replied evenly.
Hellen crossed her arms, her lips curling into a condescending smirk. "It's almost the New Year and the company is busier than usual. Yet you're leaving early at a time like this? What does that say about you? Don't you want the company to improve?"
Her voice dripped with mockery as she raised her coffee cup, savoring the moment.
"I'm still working hard for the company, contributing in every way I can," she continued, her tone smug. "And here you are, a senior employee, indulging in comfort. Is that appropriate?"
Her words stung, but I clenched my jaw and refused to react. Then, turning to the others, she added, "Everyone, take a look at this! A receptionist who spends her days enjoying herself and doing nothing. Do you know how hard it is to find a job these days?"
She was scolding me in front of everyone. My hands trembled as I gripped the strap of my bag. In all my years at this company, no one had ever humiliated me like this.
"Hellen, isn't it after work hours now?" I asked, my voice shaking with suppressed anger.
But she wasn't done. Jabbing a finger in my direction, she sneered, "If everyone were as lazy as you, how would the company make money?"
Lazy? My mind raced with indignation, but I held my tongue. The year-end bonus was the only thing keeping me here and I couldn't afford to jeopardize it now.
Then a thought struck me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the boss standing nearby, watching Hellen with approval.
"Boss," I called out suddenly, my voice clear and loud enough to cut through the tension.
Hellen froze, her smug expression faltering as she turned to look at him.
"Since Hellen is so passionate about the company's success," I said with a pointed smile, "she mentioned she's willing to work overnight for its improvement."
The boss blinked in surprise, clearly caught off guard. Hellen's face flushed a deep red as she stammered for a response.
