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PROLOGUE
“Jeanette, do you have that case file for the McClaren boys?” Henry asked, stopping by her cubicle.
Not looking up from her work, Jeanette pulled one manicured hand away from her keyboard and fished out a file from the stack to her right. Her eyes flashed from her computer screen to the file for a brief second to confirm the name and then handed it to her manager of Montreal’s Family and Children Services. Henry took the file, barely looking at it, and studied Jeanette.
She was a good one, Jeanette O’Shea was. A tough cookie as some would say. Most agents quit the agency after five years if there wasn’t a promotion on the table—which came few and far between—but not Jeanette. She’d been with the agency for almost twenty years and had been a champion over and over again. And at forty-three, she was just as sharp now as she was when she first started, which was why Henry was having trouble forming the words that he knew he had to say. Clearing his throat, Henry tugged at his tie, adjusted his glasses, and leaned an elbow on her cubicle wall.
“Jeanette, could you stop for a moment, please? I need to speak to you in my office.” Still nervous, Henry began moving from foot to foot.
Jeanette stopped typing, the sound ceasing so suddenly that it jarred Henry. She turned her bright green eyes toward him, and one of her strawberry blonde brows hiked up inquisitively. With a sigh, she took off her beaded readers and folded her hands on her desk.
“What is it, Henry?” she asked, her tone polite but firm.
“Perhaps we could go—”
“No, I’m not going into your office, Henry. I have to finish up here. Besides, you and I are the only ones here. Everyone else has gone home for the day. So what do you need?”
Perspiration appeared on Henry’s forehead as he once more began to shuffle his feet. Unable to take her gaze, he looked down at his tie. His hands itched to toy with it, but instead, he shoved them into the pockets of his slacks. He hated to do this. He really did, but it wasn’t up to him. It was up to someone above his pay grade.
“Jeanette, you have been an amazing contribution to our agency,” he began, the words making his stomach churn. “Your performance and work ethic have always been above and beyond. You’ve been a team player, helped train so many of our agents through the years—”
Jeanette put her hand up, her long, French manicured fingernails flashing in front of his eyes. Secretly, Henry had loved that she kept her nails done. So few of the employees continued to take care of their personal appearance after the first few months due to the mentally exhausting workload that came with the job. But Jeanette? She always showed up early, looking perfectly polished.
“I know where this is going, Henry,” Jeanette said, resignation lacing her tone. “Please, have a seat before you give yourself a panic attack.”
Not needing to be told twice, Henry grabbed the nearest rolling chair and plopped into it.
“I knew this was coming,” Jeanette continued, crossing her legs calmly and scooched her chair toward him.
“I’m due for another pay raise and at this rate, they could hire two fresh-out-of-college youngsters for the same amount. Am I right?”
Henry’s face scrunched in pain as he looked at Jeanette’s calm expression. “Yes,” he bit out, feeling absolutely awful. “But I fought for you, Jeanette. I swear I did. I reminded them of how integral you’ve been over and over again.”
“I know you did, Henry,” Jeanette said softly, giving him a kind smile. “Remember when I trained you? What did I tell you?”
Henry’s guilt grew worse as he swallowed hard.
“That I was great, and I was going to do great things,” he replied, his voice shaking.
Jeanette nodded. “And you are and you do. Trust me, Henry, I’m proud of you that you became my boss. But I’ve been here longer, and I’ve always known how this place works. So, I want you to know that I know this is beyond your control. Take a breath. Relax. I’m not mad at you.”
Henry’s posture crumbled as she said this, and Jeanette’s heart went out to him. He really was a good boy. Well—man. He was a good man. And he really didn’t deserve any blame in this.
“It was wonderful to work with you, Henry,” Jeanette said as she got up from her chair. “When did upper management want me out?”
“Three weeks. They want you to train the two new hires they’ve picked up,” he explained.
Though she shook her head, Jeanette smiled sweetly at him as she picked up her purse.
“I’m sorry, but that just won’t do for me,” she replied gently. “This will be my last day. I understand that means I don’t get severance pay, but…I quit. Thank you, Henry.”
As she began to walk away, Henry scrambled out of his chair to follow her.
“Jeanette, wait. We need you to stay!” he pled.
“Pish posh,” Jeanette replied in the same gentle tone as she pushed the elevator button, “you’ll do just fine without me.”
Before Henry could say another word, Jeanette stepped onto the elevator and closed the door. Poor Henry looked panicked as the view of his face shrank, but that was no longer her problem now. The moment the elevator started moving, Jeanette let out an exhaustive breath and leaned heavily against the stainless steel wall. In the privacy of the motorized room, she broke her stringent facade and gave in to the upheaval of emotions. She’d known it was coming, but still, it hurt. Nearly twenty years of dedication. Twenty years of sleepless nights, and awful nightmares over everything she’d seen come out of the foster care system came tumbling out, and she let herself sob.
