When Sarah woke up on the morning of July 10, her phone was already flooded with notifications. “Court gives Trump the green light,” the headlines read. She worked at the Environmental Protection Agency for 14 years, had served under two presidents and survived a pandemic. But today was different. At the office doors, her colleagues whispered. There was no official statement yet, but everyone understood — the familiar order was coming to an end. The government had decided: thousands would be let go. No appeals. No explanations. At lunch, they gathered in the break room. Even Jerry, who usually joked like a retiree, was silent. They discussed who might go first. Only José muttered, “I just got my mortgage approved last month…” After lunch, Sarah tried to log in — her access was already limited. Internal mail delivered a message: “You are hereby notified that your position may be terminated within 30 days.” No thanks. No regret. That evening, she sat at home, her daughter on her lap. The news buzzed about “reform” and “efficiency.” But Sarah knew they were just numbers now. Efficiency meant people were ballast. The next morning, she woke before her alarm. It was her last workday. She wore her best coat — not because she hoped for a miracle, but because she wanted to leave with dignity. The office building was silent. Like before a storm. She left a note on her desk: “We did this for people. Don’t forget.” And walked out. Outside, a light rain was falling. Sarah paused at the bus stop, watching the agency doors close behind her. And for the first time in years, she felt uncertainty — and a quiet anger.