The glass conference room looked out onto the parking lot, Lake Shore Drive, and in the distance, Lake Michigan. The sun was already high, and the heat of the day had pressed in. Rachel, my supervisor, sat across the glass table. I eased into one of the conference chairs, careful not to let it roll out from under me. Rachel had scheduled the meeting on my calendar just 15 minutes before I arrived at work. It was titled “Going Forward,” one of those vague corporate phrases that never bodes well.