By three, I’d received notice of paid administrative suspension pending an internal review.
And by five, Celia had emailed my entire department announcing that a serious documentation issue was being investigated.
She didn’t mention my name.
She didn’t need to.
People stopped answering my messages.
One coworker actually turned around when she saw me approaching the parking garage.
I sat inside my Honda Civic with a cold turkey sandwich in my lap and watched employees walk past without looking at me.
Seven years of work.
Seven years of difficult conversations, frightened patients, emergency calls, and missed family holidays.
And one woman could make people look at me like a criminal.
That night, Graham found me sitting outside my apartment.
He brought coffee.
He didn’t ask me to smile.
We sat on the hallway floor until it was nearly midnight.
“You need an employment attorney,” he said.
