“Of course,” Johnson continues, “the formal offer is contingent on your final year results. But the internship? That’s yours if you want it. Paid, obviously. Good chance to see how we really operate.”
The offer letter feels heavy in my hands. The money could solve everything.
I could do it. Take the money, help my family, try to change things from the inside.
But Alex’s voice hits me again:“They killed my cousin, Freddie.”
And this time, I can’t pretend I don’t hear it.
I slump into my chair,the leather creaking under my weight. The EcoTech logo on my laptop screen stares back at me, a constant reminder of the choice I have to make. My fingers hover over the keyboard, twitching like I’m about to throw a punch.
Fuck.
I’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, trying to find the right words. How do you tell a Fortune 500 company to shove their job offer where the sun doesn’t shine? Especially when that offer comes with a paycheck that could solve all your family’s problems?
I rub my eyes, feeling the day’s tension coiled in my shoulders like a spring ready to snap. Megan’s voice echoes in my head, mixing with the memory of the scarred landscape I’d seen at the mining site. The contrast makes my stomach churn.
“Just write the damn email, Donovan,” I mutter to myself, cracking my knuckles.
I start typing, the words coming out in a rush:
Dear Dr. Reeves & Mr. Johnson,
I appreciate the opportunity you’ve offered me at EcoTech Solutions. However, after careful consideration...
I pause, staring at the blinking cursor. Careful consideration? More like a fucking existential crisis.
Backspace, backspace, backspace.
Dear Dr. Reeves & Mr. Johnson,
Thanks for the job offer, but I’ve decided to pursue other opportunities that align more closely with my personal values and career goals.
I snort. Personal values? Who am I kidding? I sound like a corporate robot, the very thing I’m trying to avoid becoming.
Backspace, backspace, backspace.
Dear Dr. Reeves & Mr. Johnson,
I can’t take the job. What I saw today at the mining site... it’s not something I can be a part of. I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but I can’t ignore the damage being done.
I’m sorry, but I have to decline the offer.
I lean back, reading over what I’ve written. It’s blunt, maybe too blunt. But it’s honest. It’s me.
My finger hovers over the send button, a war raging in my head. On one side, the promise of financial security, of finally being able to help my family.
I pace my room, phone pressed to my ear, heart hammering like I’m about to confess to a crime. The line rings three times before Mom picks up.
“Freddie? Everything okay, honey?”
“Mom, I—” The words stick in my throat. I sink onto my bed, running a hand through my hair. “I went to EcoTech today.”
“Oh!” Her voice brightens. “How was it? Did you?—”
“I can’t take the job,” I blurt out. “I mean, it would still depend on my final year grades, but even if I am... I can’t. Mom, it wasn’t what I thought. The things they’re doing, the way they operate... It’s not right.”
There’s a pause, and I brace myself for disappointment. For questions about money, about responsibility, about the future.
