"I'm sorry, but we have to let you go."
"Ok. Um, do I...clear out my--"
"We'll handle that. No need to waste time on that stuff."
"But that's my stuff."
"It's technically the bank's stuff. You signed it over when you joined. We'll collect it. Sort it out. And ship over what ever it is you need. That'll be all Argus."
"Thank you, sir."
Five years. Five years at the bank, showing up on time. Staying late when asked. Filling in shifts. The only time Rufus had ever take extended time was when his mother died two years ago. She'd been battling cancer and needed someone at her side. With his sister out in Europe and dad having left, he was all she had. Those months in the hospital by her side had taken something out of Rufus. He'd spend long nights awake in bed, staring at the ceiling wondering what it was. When she passed, those nights shifted and he started getting out of bed, going for walks. The city wasn't nearly as dangerous as the talk radio jocks made it out to be, but at the end of the day it was still a city. He wished he could take his mother's locket with him. She had never been a materialistic woman, and at times Rufus wondered why she had been so possessive of the locket. Over the years, and on more than a few occasions, he had remarked to his sister about their mother's "obsession" with it. He cringed at the word now. To place such a heavy label on his mother, especially now that she as gone, felt disrespectful. But search as he did, he could never find a more suitable word.
"You know how people get." He didn't. "They get older, focus on things. Just be glad it isn't us that she's so obsessed with."
It was true. Rufus had always appreciated his mother's ability to let her children grow and be their own people. He never felt like being a son meant carrying around a burden like some of his friends made it out to be.
But the locket...
"Mr. Seton! Mr. Seton!" Rufus pounded on his managers--former, managers--door. But he didn't respond. When two security guards approached him from behind and placed their meaty hands on his