By the time the office clock flicked over to 9:47 PM, MediaStream had settled into its after-hours hush. The kind of quiet that made every sound feel exposed. The soft whirr of computers. The occasional tick of the air conditioner. The distant elevator chiming somewhere down the hall like a reminder that the world outside was still moving without her.
Lily Price sat hunched at her desk, shoulders tight, eyes burning as she stared at a spreadsheet she already knew by heart. Columns of numbers blurred together, but she forced herself to go through them again. And then once more. Tomorrow’s presentation would decide everything. Six months of late nights, skipped lunches, weekends sacrificed to client calls. If she made even a single mistake, it would all have been for nothing.
Her reflection stared back at her from the dark window. Pale. Tired. Older than thirty should look.
“Family must be waiting for you,” Henry Price said gently as he passed her desk, briefcase in hand.
Lily looked up, startled. She had not heard him approach. Henry was already halfway into his coat, clearly on his way out, yet even he had stayed late tonight.
“I just want to finish this,” she said, rubbing her eyes. “The presentation needs to be perfect.”
Henry paused, studying her for a moment. “Your diligence hasn’t gone unnoticed,” he said. “We’ll be making a decision soon about the key account manager position.”
Her pulse jumped. That role had been hovering just out of reach for months. Serena’s maternity leave had opened a door Lily had been quietly pushing against with everything she had.
“I’m also wrapping up the Art Media project you assigned,” Lily added quickly. “It will be ready by Monday.”
Henry smiled. “Working through the weekend again. Try not to burn yourself out. But I appreciate the dedication.”
When he finally left, Lily leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a brief moment. Thirty percent. That was what the raise would be. Thirty percent more money. Thirty percent closer to freedom.
She packed up near eleven, the office lights clicking off row by row behind her. Outside, the city air felt cooler, sharper. She breathed deeply on the walk to her car, trying to hold on to the fragile sense of hope blooming in her chest.
The apartment lights were on when she got home. The television blared from the living room, sports commentators shouting over each other. Lily barely had time to hang her coat before a familiar voice sliced through the air.
“And where have you been wandering until this hour?”
Gloria stood in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, lips pressed thin. Her posture alone carried accusation.
“Good evening, Gloria,” Lily said evenly. “I stayed late at work. Tomorrow’s presentation is important.”
“Presentation, presentation,” Gloria scoffed. “Always work. Meanwhile your husband is sitting here hungry.”
“I left lunch in the fridge,” Lily replied quietly, stepping into the kitchen. Dirty plates were stacked in the sink, crusted with dried food. Evidence that Alex had eaten just fine.
Gloria sighed dramatically. “Do you want stewed cabbage? I cooked today. Though no one ever appreciates it.”
“I’m not hungry, thank you,” Lily said, rolling up her sleeves and turning on the faucet. If she did not wash the dishes now, they would still be here in the morning.
