As Johnny placed the keys on her desk, Emma noticed the watch on his wrist. It was old. The leather strap was worn, the face scratched. She almost said nothing — but something about it made her pause.
“What’s that?” she asked.
On the back of the watch was an inscription:
“For 30 years of dedicated service. Thank you, Johnny.”
Emma stared at the words. Thirty years. Three decades of service — quietly, humbly, loyally — and she had just dismissed him without a second thought.
Her stomach turned.
“Johnny, I—I didn’t know—” she started, but he had already turned to go. “I never meant—”
He stopped and gave her a gentle smile.
“I know,” he said. “Sometimes people don’t see what’s in plain sight.”
Emma stood in silence as he walked out the door for the last time.
