Max suddenly barked once, low and short. Ethan looked up. The homeless man was across the street, pushing his cart again. He had stopped in front of a trash can and was looking around, then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the same white card.
Ethan watched him show it to another man nearby, who just shrugged and walked away. The homeless man shook his head, then tucked it back into his pocket and kept moving.
Ethan sighed quietly. "Maybe he won't go," he said softly.
He leaned back on the bench, resting his hands on the dogs' leashes.
The city felt alive, yet distant, like a heartbeat that never stopped. Ethan sat there for a few more minutes, then stood up again. "Come on, guys," he said to the dogs. "Let's go home."
They started walking again, the sound of their footsteps mixing with the hum of city life.
As they disappeared down the next street, the white card inside the homeless man's pocket fluttered slightly in the breeze, showing again the red letters that read: "Voss Barbecue House - Free Meal Card."
The morning in Bluegate Analytics Ltd. was unusually quiet. The workers in the open office moved slowly, their faces tense and serious. The sound of keyboards clicking was softer than usual, and no one seemed to be in a talking mood.
A small television hung on the wall near the corner of the office. Normally, it played random news or company updates, but today everyone's eyes were fixed on it. The headline that flashed across the screen made Ethan's stomach twist.
"Bluegate Analytics Faces Major Decline in Performance: Internal Report Leaked."
The news anchor's voice was calm but heavy.
"According to recent findings," she said, "the data from Bluegate Analytics Ltd. shows a steep drop in their market analytics this quarter. Sources claim internal mismanagement may have contributed to the fall."
Murmurs started to spread across the room. A few employees whispered to one another, their faces pale. Some shook their heads, while others simply stared at the floor.
Ethan stood near his desk, frozen. His heart pounded in his chest as the report continued. The anchor showed a few graphs on the screen, and the line that was supposed to go up had gone sharply down.
"This can't be real," one worker muttered. "Didn't we just finish the new data report last week?"
Another voice replied, "Yeah. Collins handled that section, right? Or was it Ethan?"
Ethan's name made him flinch. He turned his eyes away from the screen, trying to stay calm.
Collins, who sat at the desk beside him, rubbed his face with both hands and let out a long sigh. He looked at Ethan quietly. "Man, I swear, I didn't know this would happen," he said in a low voice.
Ethan looked at him. "What do you mean?"
"I was supposed to finish the report," Collins said, guilt filling his tone. "But i really needed to be with my girlfriend. You even said he should review it before sending it, remember?"
Ethan nodded slowly. "Yeah, I told him."
Collins looked toward the television again. "And he didn't."
The news anchor continued speaking in the background.
"Sources also confirm that internal staff had raised concerns about proper review processes being skipped before the report was submitted. Bluegate's management has yet to release a statement."
Everyone went silent for a few seconds. The sound of the television filled the air like an unwanted echo.
Ethan's chest tightened. He could feel the weight of every word pressing on him. The same report he had tried to double-check was now on national television and it was tearing the company's image apart.
Someone switched off the TV. The screen went black.
The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. Collins rubbed his forehead, shaking his head slowly. "I swear, Ethan, I didn't mean for this to happen."
Ethan took a deep breath. "It's not your fault," he said quietly.
Just then, the office door opened. The manager, Mr. Holt, stepped in. His expression was calm but unreadable. He looked around the room once, his eyes sharp.
The employees quickly returned to their desks, pretending to work. No one spoke.
Mr. Holt didn't say a word either. He simply adjusted his tie and walked straight toward his office. The sound of his shoes echoed across the floor.
As soon as he entered, Collins stood up. "I should talk to him," he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.
He took a few steps after the manager but stopped near the office door. He didn't go inside. He just stood there, staring through the glass wall, watching Mr. Holt place his briefcase on the desk.
Then, unexpectedly, the manager looked up and saw him standing there. "Collins," he said through the half-open door. "Not you."
Collins froze. "Sir?"
"Call Ethan," the manager said flatly. "Tell him to come in."
Collins turned toward Ethan, his eyes wide. He hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Ethan," he said softly. "He wants to see you."
Ethan felt his heart sink. He swallowed hard and stood up. The air around him felt heavy, and every step toward the office door felt slower than the last.
When he entered, Mr. Holt was standing near the window with his back turned. The blinds were half-open, letting sunlight cut across the floor.
"Close the door," the manager said without looking back.
Ethan closed it quietly.
There was silence for a few seconds before Mr. Holt spoke. "You've seen the news?"
"Yes, sir," Ethan said, his voice low.
"The report that was submitted, that was the same one you worked on?"
"Yes, sir. But I told you to review it before sending..."
"I know what you told me," the manager interrupted. His voice was calm, but it had a sharp edge. He turned around slowly, his eyes fixed on Ethan. "I remember clearly. You wanted me to check it. But I didn't."
Ethan stood still, unsure of what to say.
Mr. Holt walked to his desk, leaned on it slightly, and sighed. "Now the board will want answers. They'll ask who handled the final data sheet. Your name is there."
Ethan's stomach turned. "Sir, I just..."
"Listen," the manager cut in again. "I'm not here to argue about whose fault it is. I'm just telling you the truth. When the higher-ups arrive, they'll want someone to blame. And right now, your name is the first on that list."
Ethan's hands trembled slightly. "So... what happens now?"
Mr. Holt looked at him for a moment, then shrugged slowly. "There's a fifty-fifty chance, Ethan. Either they'll fire you to make an example, or they'll give you another chance because you're still new here."
Ethan swallowed hard. His throat felt dry. "I understand, sir."
"I'm not saying this to scare you," Mr. Holt continued. "I'm saying it because I don't want you to be caught off guard. I've seen this kind of thing before."