In Memoriam: Jonathan Hale, 2018–2024.

The email hit my inbox at 9:03 a.m., sandwiched between an IT security update and a reminder about open enrollment. Weekly Digest — Employee Announcements & Transitions. I almost deleted it without reading.

Then I saw my name.

“In Memoriam: Jonathan Hale, 2018–2024. A valued team member, gone too soon.”

My breath hitched. I clicked the link. The company had posted a tribute — a slideshow of office photos. Me at last year’s holiday party. Me leading the Q3 strategy meeting. Me standing beside my manager, shaking hands with a client. Smiling. Alive.

I checked the timestamp. It had been uploaded at 6:47 a.m. Before I even got to work.

My hands were clammy against the keyboard. I turned to my coworkers. No one looked at me. No whispered jokes, no questioning glances. Just the rhythmic clicking of keys, the low murmur of morning meetings.

I opened my calendar. All my meetings were canceled.

Then my phone buzzed. Unknown Number.

I hesitated before answering. The line was silent for a moment. Then a familiar voice — my own — spoke back.

“Don’t go to lunch.”