In the end, I replied, “I understand,” and hung up.
That evening, as Liam finally slipped into a stable, peaceful sleep, I reached a quiet conclusion.
If my company believed compassion had no place in the workplace, then I would make my priorities unmistakably clear.
In my hands, however, I carried a small backpack and a thick folder containing hospital reports, treatment plans, and care schedules.
I walked through the doors calmly, ignoring the exhaustion that clung to me like a shadow.
When my coworkers noticed me, the office grew uncomfortably quiet.
It wasn’t shock that I had returned so soon—it was what I brought with me.
set the folder on my desk, powered on my computer, and began methodically working through my tasks.
When my boss approached, clearly prepared to question my presence, I met his gaze and spoke evenly. “I’ve separated the two,” I said. “My work is here.
