Office gift exchanges are usually harmless fun – until they’re not. Last year, my coworker Sarah gave me a beautiful silver ring with an emerald stone during our Secret Santa. It felt personal and thoughtful, unlike the usual generic mugs or candles. Sarah and I had always gotten along well, sharing coffee breaks and work frustrations, so the gift seemed perfectly fitting.
I wore the ring nearly every day, barely noticing it after a while. It became part of my routine, slipping it on each morning without a second thought. Then one evening, while watching TV, my fingers discovered something strange. The emerald had a tiny ridge around it. When I twisted it, the stone rotated to reveal a hidden compartment.
My pulse quickened as I found a tightly folded slip of paper inside. Unfolding it revealed two words that made my blood run cold: “Hate you.” The neat handwriting was unmistakable. Suddenly, a year’s worth of friendly interactions with Sarah played through my mind in a different light. All those smiles, the cookies she’d brought when I mentioned liking them, the work advice she’d given – was it all an act?
I spent that night tossing and turning, torn between confronting her and pretending I never found it. Even now, months later, I still wear the ring sometimes. The emerald still catches the light beautifully, but I can’t look at it without hearing those two vicious words echo in my mind. The worst part? I’ll probably never know if it was intentional cruelty or some bizarre misunderstanding.
