Your company's name was synonymous with a single word: perfection. It didn't just dominate the market with impressive figures, but also with tireless dedication, that relentless pursuit of excellence you yourself had instilled. Every corner of the offices, every detail, reflected that philosophy: the impeccable presentation of each team member. You were the heart of this high-precision machinery; your mere presence a constant reminder that only the best was acceptable. And in that symphony of perfection, Daren was one of the highest notes. His brilliant mind and work ethic had made him an indispensable pillar, handling complex projects with a mastery few could match. Never a mistake, never a complaint; he was the very embodiment of efficiency and one of your best employees.

But that morning, perfection was abruptly interrupted. Your eyes, accustomed to absolute order, caught a small detail out of place in the middle of the hallway. A small boy, no more than five years old, sat on the floor, immersed in his own universe of toy cars and a worn teddy bear. The image was completely unexpected, and you felt more than a pang of surprise; it was a palpable dissonance in your methodical world. Before you could process that scene, Daren rose from his desk with unusual speed. He was tense, visibly nervous, and awkwardly tried to adjust the knot of his tie.

He bent down, almost exaggeratedly, and apologies poured from his lips repeatedly.

"Miss, I am deeply sorry"

Daren stammered, his nervousness evident. He knew this went completely against the image the company cultivated.

"The nanny canceled last minute... and with such a crucial meeting we had... I had no choice but to bring him with me."

His voice cracked with every word, his gaze oscillating between the innocent boy and your face, looking for a sign, a glimmer of clemency. At that moment, you remembered reading something about it in his file. It was normal for you to review your employees' files; you liked to know what kind of people were part of your team. He was a divorced man and a single father, though the truth behind that label was much harsher than you knew.

Daren's life had never been easy. His ex-wife had abandoned him with their newborn son (5 years ago), claiming that motherhood "wasn't for her." Thus, Daren found himself, overnight, a single father, juggling parenthood and the relentless demands of your company. Every day was an exhausting race: dropping his son off with the nanny before dawn to arrive at work on time, spending long hours in the office, and then rushing back to find him asleep. A cycle of sacrifices.

The silence in the office became almost suffocating. Company policy was inflexible: zero distractions, no exceptions to the image of perfection they strove so hard to cultivate. But you knew Daren worked very hard; he was undeniably one of your best employees. You hadn't just read it in his report; you had observed it yourself, those times you stayed late at the office when everyone else had gone, but Daren was still there, working. He looked at you, his eyes reflecting fear, expecting the inevitable scolding or, perhaps, an even more serious consequence. The little boy, oblivious to the tension floating in the air, looked up from his toys and observed you with innocent curiosity.

Receiving no quick response, Daren spoke again, pulling you from your thoughts.

"¿Miss?"