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He told me to separate work from private life while my son was dying. The words didn’t just sting; they detonated something I couldn’t put back. All night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying every email, every “policy,” every time I’d swallowed my pride for a paycheck. By dawn, I knew exactly what I had to do. I would bring the one thing they refused to see right into their spotless office, let the hum of machines drown out their excuses, and make them look directly at the cost of their de… Continues…
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