Her Dumb Honour

Perfect. That's how Karen Barger described her life. She had a job that paid her well enough to cater to her needs. She had a loving family back in her hometown in Atlanta.

She had a loving boyfriend whom she suspected could propose to her anytime. She had a 16-month old baby who meant everything in the world to her.

She was the perfect daughter, sibling, mother, and girlfriend, and the envy of some.

What more could she ask for?

Karen stood at 167 cms and weighed approximately 63kilogrammes. She had brown eyes, shoulder-length brown hair, and curves in all the right places.

2:20 pm, one Thursday afternoon, the first piece of her perfect world crumbled.

Karen had been in her office, going through the files before her, when the office phone beside her rang.

"Hello sir, how can I help you?" She said politely.

"Hello, please come to my office," Bob Francis, her fifty-something-year-old boss, said.

"I will be there shortly," she answered and hung up.

She looked at the files before her to ascertain that she had worked on the files she had been told were important, breathed out loudly then walked out of the office.

She had a black dress, her favorite, purchased by her boyfriend Carey Smith on their fourth-year relationship anniversary.

Carey loved when she wore the dress, and she had kind of started wearing it frequently as well.

Along the tiled corridor, Karen walked, her head held high. She met her colleagues, who were just coming from lunch, but they didn't mind her like the invisible staff she had become for the four years she had worked at the company.

She softly knocked on Mr. Francis' door, and he called her in.

"You called for me, sir," She said.

"Yes. That's yours," Mr. Francis said without looking up.

Karen didn't understand what he was talking about, so she looked around at the office instead.

On the desk, there were some files, a desktop machine, and a landline phone. The shelves in the office were full of books, and on top of them, there were trophies.

The wall had frames of pictures taken of Mr. Francis during various awards.

He had been in business for so long, and he was wealthy enough to buy most of the unstable businesses in New York.

"I didn't call you to just stand there. There's a brown envelope on my desk that's meant for you," Mr. Francis said, bringing Karen out of her reverie.

She walked towards the desk and felt fear suddenly grip her. Her heartbeat increased, and her palms became sweaty.

Karen closed her eyes, opened them, then took the envelope, feeling more afraid.

"You should have received the letter a month ago. Please act on it today. We don't have much time to waste," Mr. Francis said, and Karen forced herself to walk out of the office, having decided to read the letter in her office instead.

With trembling hands, she tore the seal of the envelope and removed the white folded piece of paper therein. She said a short prayer and opened the letter. Her eyes scanned the contents faster. She closed her eyes, rubbed them, then read the letter again, thinking that her eyes had been playing games on her.

"No. No. Noooo. This can't be right!" She screamed, tearing the letter into small pieces and throwing them all over the room.

From nowhere, the door to her office flung open, and in streamed her colleagues who were quick to ask what her problem was.

"Please calm down. Do you want to talk about it?" Julia Williams, one of the other secretaries, asked.

Julia was in her early thirties, was plump, had sea-blue eyes and a kind smile on her face, which Karen knew was fake.

Julia had once befriended Karen, who had been too pleased to have a female friend in New York.

They didn't get to know each other that much, but Karen had told her a few details of her personal life, but two days later, a totally different story had been spread.

Karen knew it was all Julia's doing, and she confronted her, but she denied doing so.

The worst was that Julia still thought that everything could go back to normal. How wrong was she!

"Why should I not be? Please tell me why you think I am not okay? Why do you even care anyway? Do me a favor and spare me the fake sympathies and get the hell out of my office," Karen screamed at them in anger.

Four years ago, when Karen had landed a job at the office, she hadn't received a warm welcome from any of her colleagues.

They had always looked at her as though she was a leper and avoided her.

At first, it had stressed her up, and she had wanted to resign, but Carey had been the voice of reason, telling her that she should only be concerned if Mr. Francis had a problem.

"What if he is asking them to do that?"

"Why would he? He is the manager, and his word is above everyone else's."

"How am I meant to work with them if they won't even look at me? They talk so ill about me, have heard them say quite a number of times that I only got the job because of my looks," Karen had told Carey.

"Develop a thick skin. Focus on your work. They will grow to love you and see you just like I do," Carey had said.

Carey was 6'5 tall had broad shoulders and chest from working out long hours in the gym, and had hazel eyes, black hair, and a pale complexion. He also had a scar on his chest from his childhood.

Karen took his advice and had survived despite all the hate.

After Karen's outburst, her colleagues left her office in whispers, and Karen was left crying as she packed her belonging into a small box she had received after she shopped online.

She carried them out of the office and used the lifts to get down. She called a taxi to get her home since she could no longer use the company car.