The Corporate Pyramid

Elena adjusted the brim of her hat, shielding her eyes from the fluorescent glare of the office atrium. Three weeks after the layoff announcement, and she still couldn't quite believe she'd been spared while Marcus—twenty years her senior, two months from his pension—had been escorted out like a criminal.

Her iphone buzzed in her pocket. Sarah. Again.

"Did you take your vitamin today?"

Elena almost laughed. Her sister meant well, but the concern was suffocating. Since Elena's diagnosis, everyone treated her like glass. The vitamin D supplements were supposed to help with the fatigue, help her feel like herself again. But herself had been hollowed out by spreadsheets and performance reviews for so long she'd forgotten what that meant.

"I'm fine, Sarah. Really."

"You don't sound fine."

Elena ended the call and caught her reflection in the lobby mirror. Gray strands threaded through her dark hair now. She'd stopped dyeing it two years ago when she realized no one was looking anyway. The corporate pyramid had narrowed to a point where she'd spent the last decade climbing only to find herself alone at the top with people who would never truly see her.

Marcus's voice echoed in her memory: "The view isn't worth what you lose getting here."

She walked to her desk, then stopped. The vitamin bottle in her bag mocked her—this tiny attempt to patch together a body breaking under stress. Her iphone lit up with an email from HR: mandatory restructuring meeting at 2 PM.

The same pyramid, different sacrifices.

Elena turned around, walked past security, and stepped outside. She pulled off her hat, letting the wind tangle her hair. For the first time in years, she didn't care what anyone thought.

She wasn't fine. But maybe that was the point.