Chapter 40 The Mask at the Door

Chapter 40 The Mask at the Door

When Sophie emerged carrying a cardboard box, face expressionless as she began clearing her desk, every eye in the office locked onto her.

The explosive confrontation in the conference room had already spread across the executive floor like wildfire.

"Sophie, you... you're really leaving?" Rhea broke first, rushing to her side and grabbing her hands, voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Don't be rash. Mr. Carter was angry, said things he didn't mean. If you just apologize, smooth things over, this could all blow over."

Another young secretary chimed in. "Yeah, Sophie, it was just a mistake. Who hasn't screwed up at work? Getting fired over this isn't worth it. A termination on your record will make finding another job hell."

The voices piled up around her, each one speaking cold, practical truth.

Sophie's hands stilled. She wasn't immune to doubt. She knew how rare this salary and platform were, especially now, in her situation. Stability and income were what she needed most.

But then she remembered Sebastian's towering arrogance, that casual insult dripping from his mouth, and doubt evaporated under a wave of humiliation.

She couldn't apologize.

That wouldn't just be bending—it would be admitting she was exactly the kind of woman he'd accused her of being.

"Thanks, Rhea." Sophie forced a thin smile, placing her mug in the box. "I've made up my mind."

She worked quickly. She didn't have much: a coffee mug, a small succulent plant, a few professional books, some scattered office supplies. The box filled fast.

She stood with the box in her arms, nodding slightly to her colleagues.

"Thank you all for everything."

Then she turned and walked toward the elevator, not looking back, their complicated stares boring into her back.

The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off the low murmur of voices behind her. The polished walls reflected her pale, defiant face.

Stepping through the Carter Group's imposing revolving doors, the afternoon sun hit her full force.

Outside, traffic roared, the street buzzed with life—her familiar city. But in that moment, she felt adrift, with no place to land.

Behind her, that massive glass door swung shut with a whisper.

The instant it closed completely, regret crashed over her like a tidal wave, drowning her.

She clutched the cardboard box like it held all her humiliation, mechanically boarding the subway, mechanically walking back to her cramped apartment.

The box's contents spilled across the floor. The succulent rolled out, gathering dust.

She stared at it blankly. Crushing regret and panic wrapped around her heart like an icy fist.

What had she done?

She could have swallowed it. Could have endured for her baby, for the paycheck, could have choked down every ounce of humiliation.

But she hadn't.

She'd lost her job and burned her bridge with Sebastian in one spectacular move.

Sophie buried her face in her knees, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

Money.

Rent, utilities, groceries, and the endless future expenses—prenatal appointments, formula, diapers...

Each one felt like a mountain crushing her chest.

What was she going to do?

Just as despair swallowed her whole, the doorbell rang sharply.

Sophie assumed it was Mireille or Samuel. She scrubbed at her face roughly, forcing herself up to answer.

The person outside stopped her cold.

Emma.

She stood there loaded down with shopping bags, all high-end supplement gift boxes, her face arranged in perfect concern and urgency.

"Sophie!" Seeing her pale face, Emma gasped and pushed inside without waiting for an invitation, dumping her bags in the entryway. "I just heard from Mireille that you... you got fired? What the hell happened? How could Mr. Carter do this to you!"

As she spoke, her eyes landed on the scattered office supplies, and her face twisted with deeper sympathy and outrage, as if she were the one who'd been wronged.

Sophie watched her, emotions tangling into knots.

Emma's perfume, the gold-embossed logos on those gift boxes—everything clashed violently with this small, shabby apartment.

But the genuine care on her face thawed something in Sophie's frozen chest.

"Come in." Sophie pushed down the complicated feelings, bending to gather the scattered items back into the box.

"Don't, let me!" Emma stopped her, guiding her to the couch. "You sit. I've got this."

She collected everything efficiently, then disappeared into the kitchen and returned with hot water.

Her practiced, attentive manner made Sophie feel like they'd slipped back in time.

"Sophie, don't be upset." Emma pressed the warm mug into her cold hands, settling beside her, voice earnest. "Jobs come and go. Your health matters most, and you're not just taking care of yourself anymore."

Her gaze drifted to the supplements, and she began listing them off like inventory. "These are all imported, I had someone bring them back from overseas. Perfect for pregnancy. And don't worry about money—I've saved up over the years, you can use whatever you need. Oh, and I contacted a friend who's head of obstetrics at the municipal hospital. She'll handle all your prenatal care from now on. Everything's taken care of."

Her words spun out like a fine net, organizing Sophie's entire future into neat compartments.

Every sentence quietly broadcast her superiority and capability while highlighting Sophie's desperation and helplessness.

Sophie held the mug, listening to Emma's endless arrangements, and that brief warmth in her chest cooled degree by degree.

This wasn't the Emma she knew.

The old Emma would have hugged her and cried together, cursed out their bosses side by side—not sat here offering solutions from some untouchable height.

"Emma." Sophie's quiet voice cut through the monologue.

Emma's words died instantly. The living room fell into brittle silence.

She studied Sophie's calm face, irritation flickering before she smoothed it over with careful concern. "What? Did I say something wrong?"

"No." Sophie shook her head, avoiding Emma's probing stare. "Thank you, but I can't accept these."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Emma grabbed her hand, voice urgent. "We're best friends!"