Dead Pool Office

The office death pool had my name in it, and I wasn't even dead yet.

"Two weeks," Miller said, swirling his scotch. "That's what's riding on you, Elena. Two weeks until you're 'let go' or 'pursuing other opportunities.'"

I stared at my reflection in the office window. The fluorescent lights caught every gray hair, every line around my eyes. Thirty-two years old and already obsolete.

"That's cold," David said, but his eyes betrayed him. He'd put money on three weeks.

The dog ate my homework excuse wouldn't work here. Not in tech. Not when you could be replaced by someone half your age who'd sleep under their desk and call it "passion."

My goldfish lived longer than my tenure at this company. Bubbles lasted three years. This job? Eighteen months of building something that would get credited to someone else.

"Anyone want to update their predictions?" Miller's grin was all teeth. "Production deployment failed again. Your name is all over that ticket."

I should have been angry. Instead, I felt something else. Something like freedom.

My mother's voice in my head: *Put on your hat and face the world like a lady.* But I didn't want to be a lady anymore. I didn't want to play this game where my worth was measured in how much abuse I could silently take.

"You know what?" I stood up. My chair scraped loudly against the floor. "The pool's off."

Miller's smile faltered. "What?"

"The. Betting. Pool. On. My. Life." I grabbed my bag. "It's disgusting, and I'm done being entertainment for people who've never had to prove themselves a day in their lives."

"Elena, sit down—" David started.

"No." I looked at Miller. "You want excitement? Bet on something else. But not on me. Not on anyone's livelihood."

I walked out. Not stormed—walked. With dignity.

Outside, the city air hit me. Real air. Not recycled office oxygen. The sky was actually blue, not the color of budget-friendly LED panels.

My phone buzzed. A recruiter. Someone who'd heard about what I'd actually built, not just the failures.

Sometimes the only winning move is to flip over the table.

The pool dried up the moment I stopped swimming in their waters.