Harley sat rigid, the leather of the oversized chair in Yarei's office creaking beneath her. She clasped and unclasped her hands, each pop of her knuckles a staccato beat in the silence.

The air felt thick, charged with an electric current that threatened to arc and ignite at any moment. A single drop of sweat slid down her temple, tracing the line of her jaw before disappearing into the collar of her blouse.

"Harley Williams," Yarei's voice sliced through the tension. Her boss stood, backlit by the panoramic view of New York’s skyline, casting her in a formidable silhouette.

"Miss Williams," Yarei repeated, her tone sharpening like a blade, "do you have any idea what you've done?"

Harley swallowed hard, her throat constricting as if caught in a vice. “I thought I was doing what"

"Thought?" Yarei's shout bounced off the walls, making Harley flinch. "You didn't think that's the problem!" Yarei slammed her palm against the sleek surface of the desk, the sound of a thunderclap in the confined space.

"Everything we've worked for," Yarei paced, heels clicking ominously on the hardwood floor, "years of building credibility, trust gone!" She jabbed a finger towards Harley, her garnet-red nails a stark contrast against the sterile whiteness of the room.

"I trusted you," Yarei continued, her voice a controlled burn. "And you repay that trust by running a story that could sink us all?"

Harley’s hands squeezed together, her knuckles white, the pressure grounding her as she fought the urge to shrink away.

The weight of Yarei's glare bore down on her, relentless and accusing. "Miss. Yarei," Harley tried to keep her voice steady, "I followed the protocol you gave me."

"Protocol?" Yarei scoffed. "There is no protocol for recklessness, Harley. No excuse for not fact-checking. You put us in the crosshairs of a lawsuit!"

Harley’s heart pounded a drumbeat of panic filled her ears. The office, once a symbol of her budding career, now felt like a steel trap, ready to snap shut. "Yarei, I" Harley began, but her words evaporated under the heat of Yarei's scornful gaze.

"Save it," Yarei cut her off. "I should've known better than to expect competence from someone so inexperienced." Each word was a lash, a reminder of the gulf between them.

Harley’s resolve hardened; she wouldn't let Yarei's scorn break her. She had fought too hard, come too far to crumble now. "Get out," Yarei said, turning away dismissively. "Just get out of my sight."

The finality in Yarei's voice clung to Harley as she rose from the chair. Her legs felt both hollow and heavy, but she managed to walk to the door without stumbling.

Behind her, the city sprawled indifferently, millions of stories unfolding, oblivious to the one crumbling inside this glass tower.

A memory, sharp as shattered glass, pierced Harley's tumultuous thoughts. Just yesterday, her inbox pinged with the promise of a career-defining moment a mail from Yarei labeled 'Exclusive Story.'

The subject line had sparkled with opportunity, an invitation to leap into the journalistic fray.

"Harley, this is it," Yarei's voice echoed in her memory, the recollection so vivid she could almost see the cursor blinking expectantly as she opened the email.

“The scoop we've been waiting for. Don't let me down." Yet here she was, standing on the precipice of ruin, the weight of Yarei’s expectations and her ambitions crushing her.

"Yarei, listen." Harley's words were a desperate plea, a flicker of defiance in the icy tempest of her boss's wrath. "You sent me that story. You said it was urgent, no time to vet. I trusted that. I wrote it as you instructed."

“Urgent doesn't mean irresponsible!" Yarei's face contorted her rage, a palpable force that seemed to suck the air from the room. "You're the writer. Due diligence is your job!"

Harley felt the sting of injustice, a hot surge of frustration simmering beneath her skin. She had been meticulous, and diligent, ever since she'd set foot in the cutthroat world of New York media.

But Yarei’s words twisted the knife of doubt, seeding a gnawing fear that perhaps she had been too eager to please, too quick to trust.

"Even a rookie knows to double-check their sources, Harley." Yarei leaned forward, eyes ablaze with accusation. "Your eagerness has cost us cost me everything!" The rebuke was a physical blow, and Harley found herself flinching, the taste of betrayal bitter on her tongue.

Her mind raced, replaying the sequence of events, the thrill of getting the exclusive, and the late hours spent weaving words into a compelling narrative. And now, the unraveling.

"Yarei" Her throat felt tight, her voice barely above a whisper. "I did what I thought was best based on your guidance. You never led me to suspect"

"Enough!" Yarei slammed her palm against the desk, papers fluttering like startled birds. "I won't be dragged down by your incompetence. You were supposed to rise to the occasion, not plummet us into disaster!"

Harley clenched her jaw, fighting back the tide of emotions threatening to overflow. At that moment, she understood the cruel irony of ambition; how swiftly the ladder of success could turn into a slide into despair.

She was caught in a maelstrom of blame and recrimination, yet the core of her being refused to accept defeat. She would rise again, somehow. She had to for her own sake, and for the sister who depended on her.

The morning glare of the city seeped through the blinds, slicing across Harley's desk piled with personal belongings, a stark contrast to the dimness that settled in her chest.

As she reached for her half-packed box, an envelope, thick and foreboding, lay atop like a final verdict. It was addressed to Ms. Harley Williams in a cold, impersonal typeface.

Her hands trembled slightly as she tore it open. "Dear Miss Williams," she read aloud, her voice a mere echo in the empty room, "this letter serves as formal notice"

Her heart plummeted with each word, "termination, immediate effect, irreparable damage" The phrases coiled around her like chains. Dismissal.

The finality of the term stung, its implications far-reaching and cruel. She dropped into her chair, the impact jarring her spine, the only thing that felt real in the haze of shock.

"Miss Williams?" The voice of Mister Hargrove, the HR manager, snapped Harley back to the present. "Your severance package has been discussed at length."

"Severance?" Her voice clawed its way out, hopeful yet laced with dread. "Unfortunately," he began, his eyes evasive, "the company has decided to allocate those funds towards the settlement of the ongoing litigation caused by the article."

"Litigation? But that's my" Desperation laced her tone, betraying the storm brewing within. "I need that money. My sister's medical bills, they're piling up and I"

"Miss Williams." His interjection cut through her pleas. "The decision is final." Harley's fists clenched on her lap, nails digging into her skin.

This wasn't just about pride or her career, it was survival. The walls of the office seemed to close in on her, suffocating, as the weight of reality pressed down. Her severance, their lifeline, is gone.

"Please," she said, her voice steadier now, driven by a flicker of resolve that refused to be extinguished. "You can't do this to me. To my family." "Company policy is clear," he replied, the words clinical, rehearsed.

"I'm sorry, there's nothing more I can do." "Nothing more" she repeated softly. The irony wasn't lost on her. Yesterday, she was a rising star; today, she was collateral damage in a corporate war she hadn't even known she was fighting.

With a deep breath, Harley stood, her legs steady despite the turmoil inside. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, meeting Hargrove's gaze. "This isn't over," she declared, the words not so much for him, but a promise to herself.

"Good day, Miss Williams."

"Good day, Mister Hargrove."

She turned her back on him, eyes darkened, her mind darkened, full of anger and resentment towards herself, on the job she loved, on the life she knew.

Each step away from the media house was heavy, laden with uncertainty, but also with a burgeoning strength.

They had taken her job, and her reputation, but not her spirit. Harley Williams would fight back. Somehow. She left the building with her mind made up, to get her life back and heal from all the pain the company has caused her.

She decided to go to the hospital where her sister was being admitted to, but fate served her with a more devastating situation on her arrival.