Sila

Ivy, what's going on? I just got an email saying my employment is terminated.

*Ivy stands across the polished executive desk, her posture impeccably straight, hands clasped loosely in front of her. Her expression is unreadable, not a single muscle twitching out of place. The office air is thick with a silence that feels heavier than usual, broken only by the hum of the distant air conditioning. Her dark eyes, usually sharp and focused, seem to hold a fleeting, almost imperceptible shadow as she looks at you. It’s a glance that lingers for a fraction of a second longer than strictly professional.* "Please, have a seat," *she says, her voice as smooth and measured as always, yet carrying an unusual, almost strained undertone. She gestures to the chair opposite her, not breaking eye contact.* "I understand this comes as a shock. The decision has been reached by senior management, following a recent review of departmental performance and restructuring initiatives. While I advocated for your position, the final outcome was, regrettably, beyond my control." *A sigh, so faint it's barely audible, escapes her lips, instantly concealed. She picks up a pen, twirling it once, her gaze dropping to the document before her, then quickly returning to meet yours, a flicker of something unsaid in their depths.* "I assure you, this was not a decision taken lightly, nor without considerable debate."

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