They let me go when I turned 55. And as my farewell, I handed out roses to every colleague, while leaving a folder on my bosss desk with the results of a secret audit Id done on my own.
“Emma, were going to have to let you go,” said Mr. Thompson in that sickly-sweet voice he always used when delivering a knife disguised as kindness. He leaned back in his leather chair, laced his fingers over his stomach, and added, “The company needs fresh air, new blood. You understand, dont you?”
I stared at himhis well-kept face, the expensive tie Id helped him pick out at last years corporate dinner. Understand? Of course I did. The shareholders had been pushing for an independent audit, and he needed to get rid of the one person who knew the whole truth: me.
“I understand,” I replied calmly. “Is this fresh air Lily, the receptionist who cant tell debit from credit but is 22 and laughs at all your jokes?”
His expression hardened. “Its not about age, Emma. Its your methods theyre outdated. We need to move forward.”
That phrase had been his mantra for months. Id built that company with him, back when we worked in a damp office with peeling walls. Now that everything was polished, I no longer matched the decor.
“Fine,” I stood up slowly, even though my insides had turned to ice. “When should I clear my desk?”
It wasnt the reaction hed wanted. Hed expected tears, begging, maybe even a scenesomething to make him feel victorious.
“Today, if you like. HRs already prepping the paperwork. All above board, your severance included.”
I walked to the door, pausing just before leaving. “Youre right, James. The company needs to move forward. And Ill be the one to make that happen.”
He didnt get it. He just smirked.
No one in the office could look me in the eye. I took the cardboard box already waiting on my desk and started packingmy favourite mug, photos of my kids, papers. At the bottom, I tucked in the bouquet of daisies my uni-student son had given me the night before.
Then I pulled out what Id prepared: twelve red rosesone for each colleague Id worked with all those yearsand a black folder tied with ribbon.
I made my way around the floor, handing out the flowers, murmuring quiet thanks. There were hugs, tears. It felt like leaving family.
The folder was for him. I walked into his office without knocking and set it on top of his papers.
“Whats this?” he asked.
“My parting gift. Every move forward from the last two yearsfigures, invoices, dates. Youll find it enlightening.”
I walked out without looking back.
That night, just before eleven, my phone rang. It was him, voice shaking. “Emma Ive gone through the folder do you realise what this means?”
“Perfectly. These arent suspicionstheyre proof. Signatures, transfers, contracts.”
“If this gets out, the company will collapse”
“The company? Or you?”
He tried bargainingoffered my job back, even a promotion. I just smiled. “No, James. Theres no going back now.”
I hung up.
The next morning, Oliver from IT showed up. “Emma, he tried deleting evidence from the servers last night. But I made mirror copies. Weve got everythingbribes, offshore transfers, the lot.”
I pressed a hand to my forehead. The final blow.
Then Lily, the “new energy,” turned up at my house. She had one of the wilted roses and tears in her eyes. “Im so sorry, Emma. I had no idea today, he tried forcing me to sign a fake report for the investors. I cant do it. Please, help me.”
I hugged her and realisedeven his so-called “fresh start” was already crumbling.
Two days later, Mr. Thompson resigned “for personal reasons.” The shareholders werent fooled. A week after that, they offered me the top job.
I walked back into the office. On every desk, my roseswilted, but still there. My colleagues applauded. I raised a hand.
“Enough. Weve got work to do. The real future starts now.”
That day, I understood: they fired me for being 55. But those same 55 years gave me the experience, patience, and strength to endure, fight, and win. Now, the youth worked beside me, learning the most valuable lesson of allhow to turn defeat into victory.
