There were conservation initiatives I had designed, grant applications I had written, progress reports showing my unmistakable methodology, and final presentation decks that bore other people’s names. Some had Reginald’s name. Some had Patricia’s.
Some had the names of senior staff who had never attended the field meetings, never spoken to the local schools, never reviewed the original water quality data, and never stayed late enough to see the office lights reflected in the dark windows. I opened file after file. Original drafts.
Final versions. Email threads. Edits in the margins.
Time stamps. It was all there. Years of being erased had left a paper trail.
So I made a decision. If Evergreen would not acknowledge my departure, they would eventually notice my absence. The next morning, I arrived thirty minutes early.
