The morning was still and quiet in Mr. Caleb’s large villa. He was sitting in his office, which opened into the living room, going through a stack of documents with the same focused expression he wore every day. His coffee sat on the corner of the desk, cooling slowly. He had not touched it in 20 minutes. He did not notice.
Mr. Caleb was 61 years old. He was tall, with graying hair, a straight back, and sharp, careful eyes, the kind that did not miss much. He had built his company, Caleb and Partners Construction, from almost nothing through years of hard work and very few shortcuts. He was respected in the city. People called him “sir” without being asked. He lived alone in a big, beautiful house, and most of the time that was exactly how he liked it.
There was a soft knock at the office door. He looked up. It was Grace, his housekeeper of 5 years. She was standing in the doorway in her work clothes, her hands folded neatly in front of her. Her usual warm smile was on her face, but that morning something about it was different. She looked a little tense, a little careful.
“Sir,” she said gently, “can I speak with you?”
“Of course, Grace.” He set down his pen and gestured toward the chair across from his desk. “Come in. Sit down.”
She came in and sat, placing her hands on her knees, one on top of the other. She looked like someone who had been practicing what to say and still was not quite sure how to say it. Mr. Caleb waited. He was a patient man.
After a short silence, Grace took a slow breath. “Sir,” she said, “I have made a decision. I am going to stop working here.”
The words landed heavily. Mr. Caleb stayed very still. He looked at her for a moment without speaking.
